


Harder

by nnnnastynastyjazz



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: BDSM, Crying During Sex, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, Heavy Masochism, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Sex, S&M, chapter specific tags in notes, clarified consent later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-08-04 18:36:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 31,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16351988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nnnnastynastyjazz/pseuds/nnnnastynastyjazz
Summary: Edward wants it—no heneedsit.Mustang wants a fight, Ed doesn’t know why, has no idea what’s going through the man’s head right now, but clearly doing nothing at all is the best resistance.Besides, he could beat the shit out of Mustang if he wanted, but then this wouldstop.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> and my only coherent thought was _YIKES ___
> 
> read this at your own discretion. The jist is, Ed's a masochist, Roy's a sadist, and the circumstances could be better. It's rapey bcus it's supposed to be, but Ed wants it, so if the premise/situation of something like that is uncomfy for you, I'd suggest moving along

 

 

Edward shifts outside the door, the white paneling and shining silver door knob innocuous enough, and Alphonse tilts his helmet at him, “Brother?”

He’s put off his report too long, he’s been back in Central three days since his latest assignment. The office door knob is turning daunting, and his hesitation is obvious.

“Is everything okay?” His brother asks, nudging him a little, and Ed gives his practised grin.

“‘Course, Al, I’m just tired,” He said, his eyes draw back to the waiting door knob, “I’ll try to be quick, go on to the dorms.”

Alphonse stills, unreadable, and of course Al knows that, the little twerp, so Ed can only stare up at him with what was hopefully a reassuring look.

A subtle shift in his posture, the scrape of metal, “All right, brother,” He says, and turns, “Just don’t argue so much with the colonel this time.”

“No promises there,” He jokes, and watched as his little brother walked off in a clatter of metal. Left to simmer in his apprehension, Edward managed to raise his hand to the door knob even.

No promises because he wants the colonel to be mad. He was late by design, his report shitty by design, and by now Edward knew the precise amount of shit the colonel could put up with before he got that incredible look in his eyes.

The door knob turned, and Ed walked into the office, which was expectedly empty, but Lt. Hawkeye had told him the colonel had a bit of work left, and would still be in his private office. The silence is almost eerie, and Ed doesn’t like how loud his heart sounds in his ears.

When Mustang gets angry, he looks at Edward in a way that raises goosebumps on his skin, tingles down his spine. Those dark eyes get so intently focused, searching for something in Edward that no one has ever bothered to look for. As though the colonel’s eyes are the only ones able to strip him bare, and see every last bit of who he is and what he’s done and _want_ —something. Edward doesn’t know if it’s to beat him or fuck him or both. When he’s angry and unveiled, and he looks at Edward, there is a stinging rawness in it, and Ed craves the accompanied high.

He wonders what it would feel like with _more_. A push or a shove or a slap in the face-

The private office door is thrown open with utter disregard for the occupant, bouncing off the wall, and Ed makes himself obnoxious out of habit, “Sup, bastard. Mind if I keep you here a bit longer?” The door slams behind him with a footprint from his boot.

The colonel is twirling a pen in his fingers, and his paperwork is collected neatly on his desk for once. It looked like he had actually finished already.

“Not at all, Fullmetal,” He says pleasantly, and the blatantly fake tone sets Ed on edge, “Your report, I assume?” He offers his hand and nods to the bundle of papers in Ed’s hand.

It draws Edward closer, and he is ever aware of the dark eyes that are watching his every move, “Everything went as planned.” He said, not really referring to Mustang’s plan though, which had been to take two MP’s from the local station as backup and report intermittently.

Ed’s plan had been to leave Alphonse to guard the townspeople, and raid the bandit group’s hideout himself. He had sustained a few injuries, but none of the bandits were trained fighters, and so he took out the lot of them pretty easy for one verses twelve.

“Not according to my plan, Fullmetal,” Mustang set the report aside, not even bothering to flick through it as he usually did, instead leaning back in his chair and keeping his eyes on Ed, “Care to explain why I have a repair bill for _ten thousand dollars_ on my desk, Edward?”

Ed’s stomach flipped, thrown off guard by the different turn of anger in Mustang’s voice. He was angry, maybe even the angriest Ed has ever seen him, but he doesn’t look ready to slam his hands on the table and yell like he usually does. No, this anger is different. His jaw is tight, his eyes sharp, everything in his posture screams _waiting for the right moment_. This anger is controlled, _focused_. But what he intends to do with it, Ed has no idea. The possibilities set his heart racing.

“It’s in my report,” Mustang rises to his feet without a word, and Ed swallows as the man walks around his desk, “You’d know why if you bothered to-”

“Shut _up_ , _Fullmetal_ ,” It’s _growled_ , and Mustang has his hands on him before Edward could think to move. One hand over his mouth, the other capturing Ed’s automail wrist and walking him back to slam him against the bookshelf, “Ten thousand dollars, Fullmetal, and I can’t take it out of your budget,”

Mustang is seething, and it’s beautiful to watch his mask crack and crumble.

“You are _ingratiating_ , do you know that? Mouthy and insubordinate and fucking _impossible_ , Fullmetal, and you are not worth _ten thousand dollars_ of my budget,” Books fall from the shelf when Roy pulls him back and slams him again, the bang of the rattling shelves jarring.

Edward is frozen, eyes wide to take in the sight before him. Every thought he has sparks and backfires and sputters to keep up. Roy’s cologne bathes him, he’s so warm even from this far away, and the anger, the unadulterated frustration in that gravelly voice makes Ed _throb_. The pain itself is almost enough to make him moan.

His left hand grips the shelf digging into his lower back and, mostly in embarrassment, he shuts his eyes and presses back, “Why aren’t you fighting back?” Roy’s panting, and Ed can smell a hint of whiskey on his breath. He doesn’t look up, doesn’t move an inch. Mustang lets go of his mouth and fists his bangs, pushing his head back and the pain draws a hiss from Ed, his eyes cracking open, “ _Answer me_ ,”

Ed doesn’t, he bares his teeth and glares but he doesn’t move, doesn't struggle against the grip the slightest bit. Mustang wants a fight, Ed doesn’t know why, has no idea what’s going through the man’s head right now, but clearly doing nothing at all is the best resistance.

Besides, he could beat the shit out of Mustang if he wanted, but then this would _stop_.

Roy’s eyes narrow with an angry twitch, the hand in his hair tightens, and the pain makes Ed dizzy, “I said _answer me_ , Fullmetal,”

Edward turns his head, shutting his eyes and Roy gives one angry huff before using his hold on Ed’s wrist and in Ed’s hair to pull him back and throw him to the ground. Edward’s eyes go wide, his arms flail and fail to catch him, the back of his head hits the carpet harder than he expected, making stars erupt across his vision and his thoughts swim. Roy is on top of him by the time he opens his eyes again, pinning him with all his weight.

“Fight back,” Roy demands, but Ed just lies there, trying to catch his breath when Roy slaps him across the face, “ _Fight me, goddamnit_ ,”

Edward only gasps, his head turned and eyes scrunched shut. The sting in his cheek is bruising, and there is shame curdling in his stomach at the same time as his cock twitches and strains against the confines of his tight leather pants. Roy’s weight shifts and Ed’s wrists are gathered in one hand while Roy digs in his coat pocket, retrieving a slender stick of chalk. Edward eyes him as Mustang scribbles on the carpet above his head, and the crackle of alchemy is static over Ed’s entire body before the floor molds into shackles over his hands, and covers his mouth in a hold that straightens his head and holds it in place.

Ed’s eyes widen, and Roy leans back to assess his handiwork, “You can transmute, Fullmetal,” Roy’s out of breath, and there is a slight flush on his cheeks that hints at how intoxicated he is, “Fight back,”

Ed shuts his eyes tight and lays still, arms twitching to test the hold.

“You-You don’t want this, Fullmetal,” He’s saying, one hand coming to clasp around Ed’s throat, the other pushing up Ed’s tank top, “You don’t fucking want this, so _fight back_ ,” He demands, his hand tightening around Ed’s throat, the other rakes his nails down Ed’s side, breaking the skin and Ed’s muscles clench under their path in a wince, “Fine, then. Lay there and take it, we’ll see how long that lasts,”

Ed swallows beneath his grip, doesn’t open his eyes when Roy tears at his tank top, the sound like music to his ears. It won’t be long before he realises Ed _does_ want this. Not that Ed knows _why_ he wants it, but some little part of his brain is finally sated. The loss of control is heady and intoxicating, adrenaline pumping through him faster than ever, he’s too far gone before he can rationalise anything he’s doing. He could get addicted to this.

'This' is what Mustang was thinking about when he looked at him like that, 'this' is what had Ed’s stomach hot, his heart racing.

And he wants more.

So he lays there with his eyes shut, showing no sign of protest when Mustang leans down and bites at his neck. His lips are warm, his teeth sharp, and the wetness left behind makes Ed swallow a moan. He doesn’t dare make a sound, even though his throat convulses in the effort of smothering one. The pain is bright, bruising him no doubt, and Roy’s frustration at his pliancy is growled against his skin. He pulls at Ed’s hair for a moment, shifts down and spreads Ed’s legs as far as the leather allows.

Ed’s stomach flips as Roy’s hands pull at his belt, abs tight with every breath and he stares down in wonder and fear at Roy between his legs. His belt is tossed aside and Ed’s thrumming heartbeat gets louder in his ears, his blood thick, electric in his veins and shaking him with the rush. His boots are pulled off and tossed away, each second passing brings Ed closer to the twist.

Any second now and Mustang will know. Edward is harder than he’s ever been, he can feel precum dampening his underwear, and Mustang will see it.

Hands hook on the waist of his pants, and Ed’s eyes shut tight with a burn high on his cheeks. The embarrassment is a deep vulnerability, and the bareness of this all shouldn’t turn him on so much. Yet he wants nothing more than to bare himself here, with Roy’s needy hands shaking the pants from his legs, leaving him with no option to cover himself.

Ed can feel Roy freeze in realisation, can hear the gasp that turns to near manic laughter in seconds. His eyes open in slight confusion when Roy’s hands run up his sides, trembling over his skin, and the laughing is gasped in seconds. Roy leans over him, forehead to Ed’s sternum and his breathless laugh is hummed straight through him.

“My god… my fucking god, Fullmetal,” Roy laughs, breath hot over Ed’s skin, and when he leans back his hands grip Ed’s waist, “Stay still and don’t make a single fucking sound, you understand?” His voice is shaking, and his hands are too, and Ed’s entire body tenses at the command, not daring to blink.

Roy snaps, Ed’s underwear are burned in a line like the cut of scissors, and they fall away within seconds.

He feels raw, open and helpless, yet just as Mustang had said, he could transmute and fight any time he wanted. His hands make fists against the floor instead, and he stays still though his hips want to wiggle and beg Roy to touch him, hit him or jerk him off, it didn’t matter which. He’s sure he could get off on either. Roy bites his ignition gloves off and tosses them aside, pushing Ed’s thighs further apart now that his leather pants are out of the way.

Mustang planned this, and a bottle of lube is produced from his jacket, “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure it still hurts,”

He’s sure Roy meant that to sound threatening, but it’s a promise Ed is looking forward to, and he stares down in mute fascination when Roy coats two fingers in the clear liquid and dips his hand between Ed’s legs.

Edward’s never touched himself like that before, this will be the first time anyone has touched him like this, and he shuts his eyes when Roy pushes both fingers in at once. The stretch is more painful than Ed had expected, and his whole face contorts in a wince, gritting his teeth to keep any noises of distress or pleasure to himself. There are equal parts of both, that’s for sure. Mustang fingers him with a ruthlessness that Ed’s sure is foretelling of the next act in this, and the first real threads of panic seize him.

Roy groans when Ed clenches around him, and the sound makes Ed’s cock twitch, which doesn’t go unnoticed, “This isn’t for you, Fullmetal,” Ed opens his eyes, an unbidden sting glossing them over, “Remember that,”

The fingers in him spread and stretch him, and the pain is better than Roy intends it to be. Ed thinks his obvious pleasure from this is the most frustrating part for Mustang, but the more he tries to make this hard for Ed, the more Ed seems to like it.

Far, far too soon Roy pulls his fingers away, hurriedly undoing the belt and pushing his pants down enough to pull out his hardened cock. The sight is more than Ed could’ve ever imagined, and the size comparison between the man’s two fingers and _that_ is—well, it’s incomparable. Completely. Ed’s chest stutters on every breath with Roy above him, moaning and coating himself in lube, a vision he will never forget. Roy’s jacket is open, his shirt flowing down just above where his pants were scrunched.

Ed’s jaw trembles beneath the makeshift gag covering his lips, and he can only lie there and stare, enrapt with a certain terror and an undeniable pleasure to see Roy lining himself up.

The fingering wasn’t enough, and Ed’s nails dig into the meat of his palm, his automail creaks audibly. Every muscle is his body is tense but unprepared, his eyes wide on Roy’s hands lifting his hips and his shining cock pressing into him.

The pain is unforgettable, stretching and burning through him, and Edward’s eyes go wide and well with tears, blurring the ceiling so far above him as Roy moans and folds him over, sinking down until he’s in to the hilt. It hurts so bad, Ed’s leg shakes, his whole _body_ shakes, a noise tears through his throat, and surprising even him, he comes right then, untouched and stretched to the max. He whimpers and whines through the contrasting tide of intense pleasure, gasping silent sobs and feeling warm tears drip down to his ears. It hit him like a freight train, reducing him to a mass of pain and pleasure, nothing more.

Roy’s face is buried between his shoulder and his neck, and he moans with Ed clenching rhythmically around him, “Fuck, fuck, fuck,”

Roy rocks into him, merciless, and there is fresh pain with his cock moving so roughly inside him. Maybe it’s not enough lube, maybe it wasn’t enough fingering, but Ed never imagined a pain like this. His hips ache beneath Roy’s fingertips, teeth dig into his collar bone on the edge of scar tissue that’s so sensitive, though it all pales in comparison to the stretch of Roy’s cock inside him.

It hurts so unimaginably badly, but all Ed can think is, _use me, fuck me, make me yours_ , and he shuts his eyes with soft little sniffles and whines at each thrust. The pain had been perfect to get him off, but now it’s almost too much to bear.

Roy groans and leans back, moving a hand to Ed’s throat and _squeezing_ , “I told you to be quiet,” He grits out, and Ed blinks his teary eyes open at him.

He tightens his legs around him, ankles locking, and Roy glares, “Stay _still_ ,” He snaps, his left hand on Ed’s hip, jerking him up into every thrust.

The hand around his throat is choking him now, cutting off airflow, and there will be a ring bruise there after this. Ed gasps every chance he gets, getting so light headed he fears he might pass out. But still, he tightens his legs, takes every thrust Roy gives him and minutes pass before he notices the pain lessening. Bit by bit the stretch is gone, and there is a strange pleasure in the fullness of it, a warmth building in him with every thrust. Roy’s moans are more frequent now, those dark eyes shut in appreciation.

Then the hand around his neck lets go, Ed gasps to catch his breath, and the angle of Roy’s hips change ever so slightly, sending overwhelming shocks of pleasure through him.

Ed’s eyes roll back, and he moans without thought, arching underneath Roy. Confusion is muddled beneath the pleasure. Edward has no idea what’s happening, but it feels better than anything he thought possible. His spine is a livewire, his moans pleading for more, against Roy’s order to be quiet. He couldn’t, not when it feels like this. He had came just minutes ago, and now his cock is filling out again, throbbing with it. After pain like that, this pleasure is almost too much to take. Roy doesn’t stop for a second, hitting that spot inside Ed that has stars bursting behind his eyelids and pleasure coiling through him. Ed’s throat is raw, a ramble of words muffled against the gag.

“Fuck, oh fuck, so good…” Roy moans, and he folds Ed in half again, leaning over him with Ed’s legs thrown over his shoulders.

Edward doesn’t know if he meant to or not, but the array activates and releases him, and Ed’s jaw falls open, his moans louder now, “Colonel, harder, o-ooh god _, fuck me harder,_ colonel _, colonel_!”

He grips Mustang’s shirt and trembles, tears coming to his eyes purely out of pleasure this time. Full body shudders wrack through him, and Roy stares down at him with some sort of awe in his expression, his lips parted, their faces so close, hot breath shared with inches between them. Edward writhes into every move Roy makes, unable to look away from those captivating dark eyes.

Roy’s hips stutter, his arms shake where they support him, and the most shocking thing of this all is that Roy kisses him then.

Ed reaches down and jerks himself to orgasm with warmth splattering all over him again, hot tears gathering in his eyelashes. He swallows every moan Roy makes, tasting whiskey and coffee and something so sweet and indistinct it must just be _Roy_. Arms snake around him, and Roy groans long and deep when he comes, sinking down against Ed with all his weight, fucking into him with small thrusts through his orgasm. Ed is surprised that he can feel it inside him, hot and deep, and even after it’s done, Roy keeps kissing him.

He holds him, too. Strong arms keeping Ed locked in place beneath him. They collect themselves with heavy breaths, their lips moving in tandem, parting for only seconds at a time. It’s such a contrast to everything before that Ed’s head spins, but he doesn’t dare protest or point out the stinging hypocrisy. When Roy pulls out, Ed can feel come dripping from him, and it’s not as disgusting as he imagined it might be, knowing what it is.

It’s minutes before they part, and when they do, Ed keeps his eyes shut. His lips are parted and kiss bruised, and unfamiliar aches are settling through his entire body. Mustang moves back, Ed can hear his zipper, but the man doesn’t go far, breathing heavy and swallowing with clicks.

Ed is covered in sweat and come, spit in a line down his chin, tears drying down his cheeks, and he feels dirty and twisted up, but also deeply satisfied. He’s burning through and through, on both ends of the spectrum. It takes a few breaths to come back to himself, to ground himself and not feel so fuzzy and bubbly and lost in it all.

“Fuck.” Roy pants, and when Ed bothers to open his eyes, the man is running a shaking hand down his face.

Ed sits up on his elbows and stares at him with heavy lidded eyes, “H-Hand me those,” Ed’s voice is rough, and he nods his head to his burned underwear.

Roy doesn’t hesitate, avoiding eye contact, but watching as Ed wipes come from his stomach, wincing when he wipes over raised welts from Roy’s fingernails.

“Pants.”

Roy complies wordlessly, and Ed lays back and stares blankly at the ceiling to wiggle into them, knowing he’ll just have to deal with the come when he showers. He tries to sit up fully, but his ass protests immediately and he gives up, laying back down and putting a hand over his face.

He aches. Everywhere. His neck from the bites and the ring bruising around it, his shoulders from the pin, his ribs from the scratches, his hips from Roy’s grip, his ass, his back, his head. Everything hurts.

He hears Roy shuffling, and footsteps make Ed think the man is just going to walk out before they approach and Roy sits back down. He hears the man take a swig, and when Ed looks down, he sees the whiskey offered to him.

Ed’s never drank before, but that’s the least important first to happen tonight.

He forces himself to sit up, turns to lean against the back of the couch to ease some weight off his ass, and takes the bottle. Roy is watching him carefully, and Ed in turn watches him, trying to see something past the edge of guilt on his otherwise blank face. He didn't think he'd see guilt from the way Roy was talking, but he knows the man has to have some sort of conscience.

They sit in silence for a long time. Long enough for the bottle to pass back and forth, and for Ed to start feeling the effects. It mellows his heart beat, deepens his breath, and it seems the same for Roy, who leans beside him and eventually rests his head against his knees.

Al is probably worried. Ed doesn’t know how long he’s been here, but longer than any report has ever taken him in the past, that’s for sure. It would be bad for him to walk in on this. The transmutation marks on the floor and the bruises can be explained on their own, maybe with some effort in convincing, but together it’s undeniable.

When Ed is adequately buzzed and sure he _has_ to leave now, he glances over at Roy, whose head is propped on his hand and dark eyes staring at the books that had been knocked from their place on the shelf.

Ed gathers every ounce of courage he can and grabs his come soaked underwear as he rises to his feet. Roy looks up at him, and Ed tosses the light blue boxers onto his lap, “I wanted it,” He says, noting the way Roy’s eyes widen, “And I wanted it—like that.”

He leaves without another word, jacket covering his torn shirt. His feet feel a little unsteady for more than one reason, but he forces his back straight and his steps in a line all the way to the dorms.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It'll get better next chapter, depending on your definition of 'better' and with the context of a fic like this taken into account. Better to me is more _feelings_ in the fucking
> 
> orifices? used for something other than fucking? Not in my fic


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so uhhhhhhh, some things that I don't think need to be tagged, but might need a brief warning;
> 
> Amputation kink? I guess? Like not detailed really a lot, but c'mon  
> Praise kink bcus Ed, duh  
> As much dirty talk as you could expect from this  
> And again, a lot lot lot of masochism bcus Ed, duh
> 
> Things get emotional guys! I live for giving Ed Issues™

It’s days before he shows his face in the office again. Alphonse had grilled him about the marks, and Ed blamed it on the mission. Al had said he hadn’t noticed those bruises before, and Ed said they took a while to color.

Al didn’t buy it for a second, but the colonel’s hands around Ed’s neck must not have seemed like a possibility to him, and so he couldn’t argue.

When Edward does report in, Hawkeye informs him that Mustang is home sick for the third day in a row. She has a look on her face, but it doesn’t seem directed to Ed, so he’s sure she doesn’t know. He thinks it shouldn’t surprise him that the Colonel is home sick, but the man had talked a lot of shit for someone who’s _that_ guilty.

Unless Ed is reading into it.

He makes an excuse to leave Al at the library, and manages to get one of the call center girls to snoop in personnel files and get him Mustang’s address.

He isn’t entirely sure what his plan is, can’t seem to come up with one on the walk there, but looking up at the dark townhouse, lit only with one lamp Ed can see through the window, he knows he has to do this.

Whatever _this_ is.

The front door is bright red, suitably obnoxious for the bastard. There’s a wreath on it Ed’s sure Gracia made. He tries the doorknob, unsurprised to find it’s locked, but a clap fixes that and he kicks his way in with his hands shoved in his pockets.

The lamp is on his right, and Mustang is blinking at him from behind a whiskey bottle. He’s sitting at his kitchen table, and he looks maybe a little sick, but not the cough or sneeze kind.

“Fullmetal, what’re you-”

Ed kicks the door shut behind him, and Roy’s mouth shut just as fast. He walks over and every step has his heart pounding harder and harder. He had come to talk, to figure out what had happened and if the reasoning behind it is good enough, but then maybe after…

“You weren’t at the office today.” Ed states, sitting himself opposite to Roy with a comfortability as though he’s done this before.

Roy sets the bottle down and straightens up in his seat, “Why are you here, Fullmetal?” He deflects, but he doesn’t get the tone right before a flash of guilt goes across his face.

Ed leans forward on the table, “Why weren’t you at the office today?” He counters.

He can see Roy’s jaw tense, watches his adam’s apple as the man swallows, “That’s irrelevant.” His face is a careful mask, but Ed can see him struggling with that, and it makes him want to break it all over again.

“I was thinking it’s the same reason.”

Roy chokes, “Fullmetal-”

Ed stands with his chair screeching against the hardwood floor, and he walks around the table while Roy freezes up in his chair, “Why’d you do it?” He asked, stopping when Roy looked to the bottle on his table.

There is dismissal in Roy’s face, “Edward-”

“I get a fucking answer, Mustang.” Ed snaps, hands in fists, but nothing he’s saying is making the man angry like he should be.

Roy just looks guilty, “You need to leave, Edward.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fullmetal, _go_.”

“No!” Now Roy’s glaring at him, and it makes Ed draw closer, “Fucking explain it to me, Mustang. You didn’t seem all that guilty when you pinned me to that bookshelf.”

“And you didn’t seem all that bothered by it, so why are you angry now?” Roy gritted out, and Ed glared right back.

“Who says I’m angry about that?” Roy’s eyes narrow, suspicious, and Ed crosses his arms, “Explain, Mustang.”

Mustang looks away, “The ‘why’ isn’t important, it won’t happen again.” Another flash of something like guilt, and Edward grinds his teeth.

“I want it to.”

Roy looks at him like he’s crazy for a split second before he’s standing from his chair and shaking his head, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He’s taking the bottle and walking around Ed towards the living room.

Edward grabs the bottle from his hand and without a second of hesitation, smashes it on the floor in a spray of whiskey and glass. The shatter is loud in the empty house. Roy gapes.

“Do it.” Ed demands.

Roy glares, grits his teeth, “Leave, Fullmetal.”

“ _No_.” Ed pushes at him, and Roy stumbles back to the couch, his hands gripping the back of the cushions in a white knuckled grip.

“ _You don’t want this_ ,” Roy grits out, glaring like he had in the office, and a thrill shoots down Edward’s spine, “Go.”

“Fuck you, Mustang.” Ed claps his hands and touches the nearest wall, transmuting gargoyles and spikes along every baseboard his alchemy can reach.

Roy is _seething_ , “Fix that and go!” He demands.

Edward grins, “You’ll have to fuck me first.”

Roy’s jaw _shakes_ and in one swift movement Ed is grabbed by the front of his jacket and pushed against the wall, “You infuriating _whore_ ,” Roy grips his hair and pulls him up the wall and off his feet, with his thigh pressed between Ed’s legs, “You don’t fucking want this, Fullmetal, what makes you think you want this?”

Ed grits his teeth, head cocked at an angle because of the pull to his hair, and he’s already getting hard-

“The fact that I _do_.” He snaps, and rolls his hips down against the hard thigh providing lovely pressure to his crotch.

Roy’s jaw drops, staring down and watching the movement of Ed’s hips, mesmerised, “You filthy little whore, fucking hell.”

Edward glares, hands gripping at Roy’s shoulders, “I’m not _fucking_ -”

Roy grabs his face, squishing his cheeks with a rough grip and greatly demeaning his glare, “If you want this, Fullmetal, you watch your fucking mouth,” Ed is inches off the ground between the hand in his hair and the leg between his own, and still Roy is leaning over him, “You want this, then you say yes fucking sir or I’ll make sure you don’t ever ask for this again,”

The words, so rough and powerful, send a throb through him. Ed writhes against him, gasping and moaning, and Roy draws his leg away for a terrible moment.

“Do you understand, Fullmetal?”

Edward’s boots scrape the floor, and he wiggles for that pressure again, “Y-Yes, sir.” He gasps, the words said without sarcasm for the first time in his life, and Roy eases him down the wall, letting Ed’s feet fall flat, and the returned friction makes Ed moan.

Then Roy lets go entirely, and Ed leans back against the wall, dizzy and buzzing, “Fix my walls and clean your mess.” He demands, and Ed swallows thickly and nods.

“Yes, sir.”

A clap is all it takes to return his rather tasteful redecorating to normal, and he steps on wobbly legs back to the kitchen to clean up the shattered whiskey bottle. When he’s back on his feet, he turns to see Roy watching with a dull expression that doesn't reach his eyes, can't hide the fire and hunger there, and Ed straightens up a little.

“Strip.”

Roy leans back on his couch and crosses his arms, and Ed gawks, “W-What?” His cheeks burn, and he looks to the window with the lamp, seeing a man walking his dog on the sidewalk through the parted curtains.

Roy narrows his eyes, “ _Now_.”

Ed’s jaw aches with how hard he’s grinding his teeth, and he stumbles out of his shoes without taking his eyes off Roy. His jacket falls with a shiver down his spine, raising goosebumps in it’s wake. His fingers hesitate on the hem of his tank top, and Mustang arches an eyebrow. Ed chews his lip and pulls the shirt over his head, flicking his hair out of his face and moving on to his belt, noticing more and more with every passing second that he doesn’t mind this at all.

The belt is cast aside, and he undoes his button and fly, pushing down his pants with little hesitation left in him. He steps out of them and pushes them aside, fingers catching on the elastic of his underwear, and it hits him that he is embarrassingly hard for how little he’s been touched. If Roy notices, he doesn’t show it, and Ed sets the boxers on his pants, feeling another shiver when he’s in nothing but his socks.

When he looks at Roy, he blushes to see his dark eyes flitting all over him, as if he didn’t know what he wanted to settle his eyes on. Something about it isn’t embarrassing though, Ed loves the attention, soaks up the lust in Roy’s expression.

Roy finishes his inspection and turns to the hallway, “Come on,”

Ed’s knees shake with the first step, but he trails after Mustang with anticipation racing in his chest. It had hurt so bad last time, he had barely been able to walk. Part of him hopes it’s not as bad this time, another part wants it just as hard and rough and merciless.

Roy leads him upstairs to the bedroom, which surprises Ed for some reason. It makes this a touch more personal, he thinks.

“On the bed, on your hands and knees,” Ed takes the step in front of him and yet again Roy grabs him by the hair, pulling him back and angling Ed’s head back with a sharp pull, forcing him to look up at him, “What was that, Fullmetal?”

Ed groans, eyes fluttering shut, “Y-Yes, sir.”

Roy pushes him and Ed stumbles all the way to the bed, “I want to hear a lot more of that.”

“Yes, sir.” It’s almost mindless now, but Edward hopes the bastard doesn’t expect this in the office, there is _no way_ he’s calling him sir outside of instances like this.

Which implies this won’t be the last time, and he realises then that he kind of desperately hopes it’s not.

Ed climbs onto the pristine grey blankets, ever aware that he is fully naked and bare to the world. He arranged himself as asked and waits. He hears Roy doing something in the closet, but he doesn’t look over his shoulder because he’s pretty sure Roy would snap at him for that. Not that he’ll keep up this obedience forever, but the look in Roy’s eye when he says _yes sir_ is almost as hot as his glare.

The bed behind him dips, startling Ed out of his thoughts, and he tenses, feeling Roy settle behind him. Rough gloved hands run up Ed’s back, and he shuts his eyes. They reach his shoulders, and he can feel Roy lean over him. His hands travel down Ed’s arms to his wrists. A distant piece of his dignity shatters to find he loves how much bigger than him Mustang is. Ed can feel him hovering over him, the hint of his shirt brushing over Ed’s back, the feeling of his steady breath near Ed’s neck. Roy’s right hand moves back to Ed’s shoulder, and the breath in Ed’s lungs stutters when Roy’s fingers hesitate at the locking mechanism.

“I want these off,” Roy says with total nonchalance, and the sharp, disorienting panic hits Ed with a tremble in his lips, “Is that too much for you, Fullmetal?”

 _These_ , as in both his arm _and_ his leg. Ed’s stomach drops and his eyes shut. Roy’s voice is taunting, but Edward’s too smart to think he’s teasing him right now. He’s giving him a way out of that, without ordering him to say whether it scares him or not.

And it does, it’s terrifying. Before, Ed could transmute and get away at any point. Even with Roy fucking him into the carpet, he could’ve gotten out if he wanted to, and that had been half of the thrill. That he had been letting it all happen. This time, he wouldn’t be able to stop him even if he did want to. That thought of being completely broken at Roy's will makes him ache for it.

Ed swallows and shudders visibly, a sigh shaking in his lungs, “No, sir.” He whispers, and Roy’s answering groan precedes the familiar click and buzz of detachment.

Edward’s off balance immediately, and he arches down against the mattress, his left arm bent beneath him, face hidden away in the pillows that smell indescribably of Roy.

Roy hums and sets the weighty metal limb aside, presses his crotch against Ed’s ass with his hands running down Ed’s back. Edward can feel how hard he is, and it’s an amazing thing, to be wanted like this. To be broken down to _nothing_ and wanted so immensely. It shakes Ed to the core, and his face crumples against the blanket, feeling Mustang click and pull at his automail leg too.

When that falls away with nothing more than a harsh buzz along the open nerve endings in his port, Edward moans, _loud_. His throat chokes on it, feeling scared and helpless and startlingly _okay_ with that.

Mustang grinds his crotch into Ed’s ass, holding him balanced with hands on his hips, “Fucking hell, Fullmetal…” He moans and Edward pushes back against him, “You look good like this…”

He knows it’s not exactly a compliment, but it makes his heart flutter all the same, and Ed turns his head, peeking up at him through his lashes and bangs, and Roy’s expression leaves him breathless, “Y-Yeah?” Ed asks, mumbled into the pillow, and Roy grips his hips tight.

“You’re mine like this, you know,” Roy says, and Ed shuts his eyes, turning his face back into the pillows, “All mine. The famous Fullmetal Alchemist, broken down and powerless, and you can’t do anything about it, can you?” He moans it, leaning down to lick up Ed’s spine, “My little slut, just waiting to be used, hm?”

Edward smothers a moan, and it’s easy with his throat closing up like it is. He’s so hard now, his cock is leaking already, throbbing and aching and he can’t do anything to ease that.

One of Roy’s hands pushes his face into the bed, and Ed’s eyes go wide, “I asked you a question, Fullmetal.” He growls, hand tightening around the back of Ed’s neck, and Ed sobs his moan.

He pushes his hips back against him, “F-Fuck, Mustang-”

Roy’s fingers dig into his hip, rolling forward, “That’s not what I want to hear, Fullmetal.”

Edward’s head spins, “Y-Y-Yes, I-I am…”

“Are _what_?” Roy snaps, and the tone is so full, so _angry_.

“W-Waiting…” Ed gasps, and Roy’s other hand reaches under him to his needy cock, _squeezing_.

The contact makes Ed moan into the pillows, eyes shutting again, “Full sentences, Fullmetal.”

Ed tries to remember what Roy had even said, the hand gripping his cock is far too distracting, just short of painful, and nothing near satisfying, “I-I-I’m y-your slut, waiting f’r you t’use me,” Roy's hand moves up and down his length, torturously slow, “P-Please use me, sir.” Ed moans, his hips pushing back against Roy’s crotch still pressed tightly against him, and he can feel how much harder he’s gotten.

Roy lets go of his neck and cock at the same time, and Edward whines, wiggling his hips when Roy moves back. Edward looks back over his empty automail port and watches Roy unbutton his shirt, never taking his dark eyes off of him. He looks hungry, and he’s licking his lips like he’s considering taking a bite. Ed wants him to, god does he ever. He’s lightheaded and breathless from it, and his whole body wants him, wants him so badly it aches in every fiber of his being. He would lick his boots, he would kneel at a single command, anything for this.

As if reading his mind, the next thing out of Roy’s mouth is, “Beg.” And the word by itself has Ed’s mouth watering.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Ed whispers under his breath, shutting his eyes for just a second before he hears Roy’s belt being undone and he has to look back again, “Please, colonel, please use me. I-I’ll do anything, I need it so bad,” The words themselves seem to raise the desperation in him, his eyes sting and Ed shuts them before a single tear can form, “ _Please_ , Mustang, please.”

Roy moans, sounding as broken as Ed, and he shakes his head with a look of disbelief, “My god, Edward…”

He has a bottle of lube and Ed gasps at the cold drips over him. His right leg splays out, sliding over the soft blanket, and what’s left of his other is propping him up, though just barely. Roy only puts one finger in at a time, spreading him open, and Edward thinks that only one might make it hurt worse this time. He stays still for the process, knowing that if he relaxes now, then maybe the next part won’t hurt so bad.

What he doesn’t realise at first is that Roy is just going slower this time. He fingers him with more lube, adds the second finger carefully, and Ed even catches his other hand running up and down his back after he winces at the stretch, as if _soothing_. Edward chooses to ignore it, focusing more so on relaxing into it. The fingering goes on for much, much longer this time, and Roy is silent through it all, watching his ministrations with heavy lidded eyes and occasionally shifting the front of his pants.

Ed rocks back into it in a mindless rhythm, his eyes shut, face tucked on a pillow with the corner between his teeth in an effort to keep all his embarrassing whines muffled. He’s sure he’s ready enough by now, with no pain at all from the fingers scissoring in him. Excess lube drips down his legs, and it reminds him of having to walk to the dorms last time.

It’s just as he’s thinking that, that Roy hums and curls his fingers down, pressing into Edward at a different angle and that magical spot Ed remembers from before is hit with practised precision. His eyes go wide, face contorted in an agonised sort of pleasure with his moans closer to sobs now. His hips twitch, spine arching with tingles.

“Fu-hahh, fuck, _fuck_!”

Roy stops only to add a third finger, and Edward hardly notices at all with the pleasure burning through him. He’s suddenly so close to coming his cock twitches and leaks, eyes blurry on the dresser across the room. He never expected Roy to make him feel good on _purpose_ , but it is marvelous. Ed can feel drool against his cheek, and his left arm shakes as he struggles to lift himself up enough to turn his head and speak.

“ _Oh fuck_! Oh god, _colonel_ , please—inside me,” His bangs stick to his sweaty forehead, turning pleading eyes to Roy, “H-Hurry, oh-oh fuck, so good, so good, s-s-so-so-”

Roy pulls away and Ed sags against the bed, shaking and wiggling against the blankets for the friction, “Turn over,” Roy sounds out of breath, and when Ed manages to do as he’s told, he sees Roy’s chest rising and falling in shallow breaths, his shirt exposing his broad chest, glistening with sweat, and it makes Ed’s mouth water, “Your automail hurts to put back on, doesn’t it?”

Ed watches Roy lean over and grab his leg, and Edward draws in a shaky breath, “Yessir.” He didn’t expect his words to slur, but his tongue doesn’t seem capable of anything more than that.

Roy lines up the leg and Ed’s left hand fists in the blanket beneath him, “And you’ll come if I attach it right now, won't you?”

Ed thinks of last time, how he’d came just from Roy sliding into him and stretching him open. The pain of reattachment is equal if not more, and Ed nods, “Y-Yessir.”

Roy nods and pulls out his cock, hard and flushed. He sighs as he coats himself with lube, and Edward braces himself for the pain. Roy leans over him, one hand just above the port on Ed’s leg, the other lifting his hips enough that he can line up his dripping cock and slide himself in.

Edward’s lungs fill with one gasp, his head tipping back in the pillows, “O-Oh…” His jaw drops, and the pain this time is much less.

Though just as he thinks how good it feels to be filled like this, Roy pushes his automail leg into place with a click, and the pain is like a red hot sledgehammer with an electric current pumped through it. It tears through his leg and wracks his whole body, and the orgasm it induces is just as forceful. He keens, tears in his eyes, and Roy doubles over him with moans of his own muffled into Ed’s neck. He spasms and clenches around Roy’s cock, and the moans that elicits are like music to his ears.

“C-Colonel, oh colonel, f-fuck, _colonel_ …” Ed sobs, come hot over his stomach and chest, and he covers his face with his hand as Roy starts to fuck him.

“Goddamn, you’re still so fucking tight…”

Again, tears run down his cheeks, and Edward is gone with it. His moans are endless, but they don’t reach his ears in any sort of conscious way. He’s saying—something, he doesn’t know what, but he can feel words on his lips. Everything devolves into incoherence until all Ed can focus on is the pound of Roy’s slick cock in and out, _in and out_ , and the steady creak and thump of the bed beneath them. Edward is overwhelmed. He can’t think through it, and never has anything pushed him so far out of his head that he can’t grasp a single coherent sentence in his mind. It's bliss, this relief from the world.

Roy’s moaning pulls him back down slowly, “Ed-Edward, oh god yes, _Edward_.”

Hearing his name moaned from Roy’s lips is better than any fantasy Edward could ever have. He wants to hear more, so much more.

Ed’s arm loops up around his neck, and now that the pain is gone from his leg, he wraps his mismatched limbs around Roy’s waist, “C’mon, colonel,” Ed sighs, shutting his eyes, “C’mon, fuck me, fill me up, come inside me again, please, please, wanna feel it, colonel, I’m yours, your slut, give it to me.”

Roy fucks into him desperately, arms shaking, hips stuttering, and he stares down at him with every breath sucked through parted lips, sweat shining on his brow, “Yes, yes, Edward,” He gasps, holding Ed’s jaw as he had before, now collapsed down on his elbow with their faces held inches apart, “You’re mine now, all mine, don’t ever fucking forget, don’t you dare,” He moans and shuts his eyes, shuddering through his orgasm and stilling as deep as he could be, “My slut, just for me, _only me_ understand, Edward?” He kisses him, rough and hungry with more teeth than tongue, and more than what could be considered a healthy amount of desperation. Ed whimpers into his mouth, “Fuck, Edward, fuck…” Roy moves in little thrusts now, completely spent, and he slips out with his lips moving over Ed’s neck.

Edward tastes blood over his bitten lip. The silence that settles over their heavy breathing is suffocating. The blank ceiling above him even more so. But the worst of it all are those words still ringing through his head.

Mustang rolls to the side and pulls Edward in to his chest. Ed’s head is tucked under his chin, and his forehead presses to Roy’s collar bone.

Clarity comes when the afterglow melts away, and with it, a new desperation kicks up in him.

He can hear when Roy swallows, feel him clear his throat, “Th-This is—not good.” Yet as he says it, his arm tightens around Edward.

Ed is suddenly gripped with the fear that he will never feel this again, not with anyone but him, and really, who else would he want to make him feel like this?

Ed tips his head back to look up at him, eyebrows drawn together, “I-I won’t tell anyone,” He promises, “No one will know.”

Roy shuts his eyes, “Ed-”

“Please…” Ed whispers, swinging his automail leg over and wiggling against him like a cat, “I need this, Mustang, don’t you?”

Roy ducks his head with a pained expression, leaning his forehead to the top of Ed’s head, “Fuck, Edward, no, no, I can’t, I—raped you, _twice_ ,” He opens his eyes and looks terrified for a brief second, “I can’t do this, what am I doing?”

“You didn’t—that’s not what this is,” Ed insists, and he grits his teeth, that panic creeping up on him again. He needs this. He can’t even imagine having anyone else treat him like this, who would? And how could he ask for this? How fucked up would that be? “I wanted this, I-I practically forced you into it! I didn’t stop you before because I wanted it-”

“You are _16 years old_ -”

“And I _need this_ , Mustang,” Ed interrupted, and his left hand shakes where it grips Roy’s unbuttoned shirt, “You-You said… you can’t just back out now, Mustang, not after all that, fuck you, y-you can’t-”

_Leave me._

“Fuck-Fuck you.”

Ed’s heart was pounding, why was his heart pounding? He couldn’t quite breathe right, and it must’ve shown on his face, “Edward, don’t—you need to go. This never should’ve happened.” Roy is sitting up, and Ed wobbles to sitting too.

“B-But you said…” Ed swallows nausea as Roy turns away and rises to his feet, silently redressing himself.

The silence smothers him, and Roy won’t even look at him, and Edward grits his teeth and tries to muster up some anger, but it falls flat beneath the gut wrenching terror. He’s not allowed to feel this, he’s better than this.

Edward looks up as Roy sits in front of him with his automail arm, and it’s only then that he realises he hadn’t attached it yet, “Is it-Was it just because you were drinking?” Ed asks, and Roy blinks at him, confused, “I don’t fucking get it, Mustang, you-you said all that stuff and now-”

“I can’t _do this_ , Fullmetal,” He’s back to using his title, and Ed couldn’t remember when he had stopped, “It’s fucked up, it’s—more than that. I-I don’t know why you think you want this. It must be some sort of stockholm syndrome. I’m sorry, I am, I’ll do anything to make it up to you just please don’t ask me for this…” Roy turns away, puts his face in his hands, and sighs.

Edward chewed the inside of his cheek, “You didn’t answer me, why did you do it?”

Roy doesn’t look at him, “I was _angry_ , and—more buzzed than I should’ve been. I’m fucked up, Edward, I tried to rape you and you just happened to be into it.”

“You didn’t try to rape me,” Ed argues, “You told me to fight you, you know I can kick your fucking ass, you gave me every opportunity to say no, e-even this time, even when I demanded it, w-what part of that is rape?”

Roy looks up at him, “You are _16_ , Ed…” Ed looks away, tipping his chin up, “It’s statutory rape, and that’s just if we fucked, Edward, not to mention I'm your _CO_. Everything about everything I did to you was rape.”

“Bullshit,” Ed grinds his teeth, “I’m not stupid, Mustang, you didn’t con me into anything, and if five years from now I wish it didn’t turn out like this, then that’s on me. It-It has nothing to do with you.”

Roy’s expression softens around the edges a little, and he shakes his head, “It does because I can stop that from happening entirely.”

Ed’s chest seizes, “Mustang, I will do _anything_ -”

“Stop, please, please stop-”

Ed leans forward and grabs his arm, “You don’t fucking understand, Mustang,” Roy tries to pulls away, but Ed follows, “I need this, who else is going to do this? Who else  _wants_ to? Who-Who the fuck else could I let fucking strip me and take off my automail and fuck me until I fucking cry?!” His cheeks burn as he says it, but he’s naked still anyway and covered in come, and he doesn’t have his arm on, so the embarrassment from that admission falls flat.

Roy’s jaw dropped a little, eyes widening, but he wasn’t saying anything, he was just _staring_.

So Ed shimmied a little closer and tugged on his shirt, “If you don’t want it, I won’t say anything ever again.”

Roy finally sighed and leaned in the last few inches, “Don’t hate me when you change your mind about this,” Ed’s eyes widen as Roy leans down and kisses him.

The kiss is unbearably soft, but it ups in heat when Roy turns more to face him, his hand coming to Ed’s hip and squeezes. Edward sighs into it, moving forward and leaning into him as much as he could with his automail arm between them and the awkward angle that they’re sitting on the edge of the bed.

Roy’s tongue drags over Ed’s lip, and Ed opens willingly for him. He still tastes like whiskey, and though Ed’s never kissed anyone in his life other than him, he feels like he’s catching on quick. Mustang keeps kissing him, in any case.

Suddenly Roy bites, his hand coming to Ed’s hair and pulling him back. Ed’s a little kiss drunk when he blinks up at him, and Roy looks just as affected, “Only me, Edward,” He whispers, low and threatening. Ed’s breathing hitches, pupils blooming outwards, “If you want it, _only me_.”

Ed nods in a daze, licking his lips, “M’yours now, Mustang,” Roy smirks, any trace of guilt wiped away with a look of satisfaction, as he traces his eyes up and down Ed's figure, and Edward averts his eyes to his automail arm because he can't quite find anything else to say, “Mind helpin’ me put that back on?”

Roy’s eyes dart down, “Right, of course,” His expression turns pensive, “Would it be better to get you worked up first?”

Ed blinks, “What do you mean?”

Roy looks up at him and licks his lips, “The pain will be easier when it makes you come, I imagine.”

Now Edward blushes, and he nods, “Y-Yeah, actually, that’ll probably be the easiest.”

Roy hums and moves the arm out of the way while he pushes Ed to lay back down, “Your pain tolerance really is incredible,” Roy says casually, as if he wasn’t again sitting between Ed’s spread legs, “Do you get turned on in every fight you have?”

His fingers run over the scratches he had left, and the sting catches Ed’s attention, “A good one, sure,” He replies, “Wouldn’t say I get turned on, just—pent up.”

“What’s the usual remedy for that?” He asks, voice holding nothing more than mild interest even as he moves to sit somewhat over Ed’s lap, his legs folded over Ed’s to pin them down, though his ass was still fully on the mattress.

Ed swallows, the nonchalance itching at his senses, “U-Usually take a shower,” He mumbles, watching Roy’s hand wander over his skin absently, “A long shower. Think ‘bout you.”

Roy arches an eyebrow, “Oh? Do tell, Fullmetal.”

His tone is back to that buttery smooth authority, and Ed bites his lip, already getting hard again, “S-Sometimes I think about the communal showers for the dorms,” He says, and shuts his eyes while Roy’s hands still roam all over him, avoiding the one place he wanted him to touch, of course, “Th-Think about showering late, when it’s all empty and no one really hangs around there. ‘Nd I’m showerin’ and j-jerkin’ off ‘nd moanin’ your name and then I look over and you’re _there_ ,” Roy’s hands are teasing him outright now, squeezing over his hips, grazing the few inches of his inner thighs that he can reach, “You’re t-tellin’ me to keep going, how much you w-wanna watch me get off,” Roy’s hand finally wraps around his dick, Ed’s eyes widen with his moan, “Fuck, god, that’s good…”

Roy drips spit into his hand and jerks him slow, “Tell me another.”

Ed’s hips buck up into his hand, “Sometimes y-you tie me up,” Roy looks up at him and his hand tightens around him, “A-All fancy knots that take forever ‘nd so tight it hurts-” Ed words choke into a moan when Roy goes faster, “A-Ahh fuck…”

“Keep talking, Fullmetal.” Roy orders, and Ed’s head lolls against the pillows.

“Y’get me all tied up, ‘nd p-put me on your desk. I’sgood when I can get it t’drag out, ‘magine you just leavin’ me like that f’r a while, t-talkin’ my ear off like always,” Ed moans and sighs and grips the blanket beneath him when he gets restless, “Sayin’ h-how pretty I am in nothin’ but rope, sayin’ how much you wanna fuck me, how good it’s gonna feel when y’do,” He closes his eyes and Roy’s hand flicks and twists and jerks him off better than Ed could ever do himself, “A-Always tell me black and blue looks good on me—fuck, _M-Mustang_ , I-I’m gonna-”

“Not yet.” Roy sounds too out of breath for an arm work out, and he lets go, shifting to grab the automail.

Edward feels him line it up right, and he looks up when Roy’s pets over him again, “D-Do it,” The pain slams with the same force as with his leg, hurting so bad yet so _good_ , that Edward arches off the bed with Roy’s hands all over him. He comes like the pain had flicked a switch, and his moans are loud enough that he’s sure Mustang’s neighbors could hear, “Oh fuck, _yes_ , good, hurts so good, _so good_ , colonel.” He babbles, more come painting his torso in sticky warm white.

Roy’s hands are warm up and down his sides, “That’s it, Fullmetal, that’s it,” He whispers, dipping his fingers in the come and bring them to Ed’s mouth.

Anyone else, Edward _swears_ , he wouldn’t have opened up for, but he cleans his come from Roy’s fingers and loves it. He sucks two into his mouth, the taste bitter and salty. His automail grips Roy’s wrist to hold him there, and the older man drinks in the sight with his lips parted, pupils no doubt blown, though from this far away his eyes are so dark they look black.

When Roy pulls his hand back, a line of spit trails from Ed’s parted lips, and then Roy leans up to kiss him.

“Goddamn you’re hot, Edward,” Roy whispers against his lips, “Sinful,” In Ed’s fantasies he would say _beautiful_ , but he’ll settle for what he can get. Roy bites at his lower lip before he gets off of him and leans back to look over him again, “Damn…”

Ed let's himself be observed, wonders at the mental painting Roy has of him. With come covering his torso and dripping from him. He's more bruise that skin, scratches ad bites mixing seamlessly, and it's amazing how good it feels to be used so thoroughly. There is still a tension between them, but Ed suspects it’s only because they both know that no matter how much they want this, no matter how much Ed _needs_ this, it’s _wrong_. But that in itself is what makes him want more, what makes him realise he really could get addicted to this.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> but don't worry, there will be more ;)
> 
> do me a favour and lemme know if there are any unnecessary spaces after italics bcus ao3 is kinda fucky with that and it peeves me to no end
> 
> thanks!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> face fucking ahoy! that's really like it for this chapter tho besides more implied alcoholism, which I might address later
> 
> this one is shorter bcus I had to add it between scenes I already had written just to establish the dynamic a little more, y'know, bcus when I write for me I always get to the goods a little too fast
> 
> enjoy~

Central Command was a blur around him, and he walked through the familiar halls in a sort of trance. He’s exhausted. The mission had dragged out past a _month_ , and though the bruises are now fading to green and yellow, they ache like the day he got them. He jumped out of a _train_ , rolled in desert shrubs and gravel and even got up to chase after the bastards. The doctor said he fractured a rib, but Ed only kept the wrap on for a day.

Now, his left ankle is throbbing from the walk here from the train station, and all he wants is what’s waiting for him in the office.

He came by late because he knows Mustang is expecting him and that everyone should be gone by now. Soon, Mustang will take all this pain and twist it into pleasure, something that over the past two months only he has been able to do. Edward tried to bite his lip when he was masturbating, because that’s usually enough of a sting to send him over the edge, but in the end he had to draw blood on his hand to get there. Roy can pull his hair and order him to come without touching him at all, and it's almost embarrassing.

The office door is open when Ed comes up on the hall, and Riza is stepping out as he approaches. She seems surprised to see him, but there’s something else lingering in her expression.

“Major,” She nods her greeting, and Ed almost winces at the title, but at least she doesn’t salute him, “The colonel is busy at the moment,” Ed raises an eyebrow, and the look in her brown eyes tells him something bad must’ve happened, “It might be better to come back in the morning tomorrow.”

Edward glanced through to the private office door, “I can wait a bit. Need to finish the report still, actually,” He excused, an easy lie, and Hawkeye’s pursed lips made him ask, “Is something going on?”

She straightened up a bit and glanced over to the door, “General Hakuro has stopped by,” She said, and that alone was enough, “If you do end up waiting, please remind Colonel Mustang that his first meeting tomorrow is at eleven?

Meaning the colonel wouldn’t need to come in until then, he made note of, and Ed nodded, “Sure, see you later, Hawkeye.”

She smiled and nodded, “Have a nice night, Major.”

Edward winced at that one and scratched the back of his neck, uncomfortable with the formality, and it made her smile widen, “Yeah, yeah, you too.”

He turned into the office after she had walked away, eyes on the shut double doors that separated the private office from the main office. His ears tried to pick out anything more than a murmur of voices every now and then, but he couldn’t recognise anything more than the fact that is was Hakuro shouting and not Mustang. The thought of the colonel getting in trouble made Ed grind his teeth, and he cracked his knuckles.

He sat himself at a nearby desk, knowing now really wasn’t the time to barge in and act an ass like he usually would. His report was finished. He’d written it up on the train here, Al had made sure it was done before going off to the Hughes’s to wait for him. He had told him no more than an hour, but now he wonders if it’ll take longer. He hopes he at least gets something after this, and that Mustang won’t be too angry to smack him around a little.

Which is a weird thing in itself. Usually Ed has to bug him and piss him off just enough to get him all ruffled and angry, but when it’s an anger not directed at Edward himself, he usually shuts down every attempt Ed makes. Sometimes if Mustang is already irritated, Ed messing with him does nothing more than get him a little push or hair pull before he’s ordered out.

The raised voice inside the office cuts off, and the door is pulled open just as Ed stands, about to make sure everything is okay. Hakuro is blubbering some stupid reprimand, red in the face and sneering, and Ed can see the thinly veiled anger on Roy’s face even from this far away, with the colonel standing behind his desk.

When the general turns, he sees Ed and his cold steely eyes sharpen, his jaw tightening, “Major,” He snaps, and Ed thinks it's meant to tell him he should salute, but he doesn’t even salute _Mustang_ , there’s no way in hell he’s going to salute this guy, so instead, he raises an eyebrow and watches a vein pop on the man’s forehead. He turns back towards Mustang with a twisted glare, “Your Major needs to learn some proper goddamn respect, Mustang! All of your subordinates are impertinent cretins!”

Despite the harsh tone regarded to him, Mustang’s posture actually relaxes, and a bit of anger eases from his expression when he turns his eyes to Edward and doesn't look back to the general, “Of course, sir.” He says, voice dry and just as disrespectful as Hakuro should expect.

The general huffs and chokes and grumbles on his way out, stomping all the way and slamming the door behind him. The silences that follows is a relief, really, and Edward looks back over to see Roy reaching into his desk drawer and producing a nearly empty bottle of liquor. He chugs, and Ed walks in carefully, not quite able to gauge the man’s mood. If it’s a certain kind of bad, he really should keep his mouth shut and hand over the report and leave, no matter what a disappointment that would be.

If it’s bad, but in _just the right amount_ , then all he has to do is play along.

He shuts the door behind him and only takes a few steps around the couch before Roy is walking up, bottle in hand. His expression is dark, distant and masked, and it makes Ed a little uneasy at how _not_ angry he is. Not a familiar angry, at least. Ed goes to hand him the small stack of papers that is his report, when a twitch of annoyance shows on Roy’s face.

Mustang grabs the papers and throws them aside with a huff, sending them in a flurry across the floor while he presses forward and backs Ed up to the wall. Edward’s eyes go a little wide and he presses himself back as Roy keeps walking forward, taking another big swig. Then he grabs Ed’s face and kisses him, and the alcohol floods Ed’s mouth, forcing him to swallow and choke.

The kiss makes them equally breathless, even with how short it is, and when Roy pulls back to take another drink, Ed gasps and stutters, “Th-The door-”

Roy kisses him again before Ed can voice his concerns, and it’s a repeat of before, the burning liquor filling his senses and coating their tongues. It burns all the way through his chest, and the heat settles low in his stomach. The ignition gloves scrape over a punch bruise on Ed’s jaw, but when it's Roy's hand on it, the pain isn't the same. Instead, it sinks to his crotch like magic. At some point Roy reaches to set the bottle down on the bookshelf, never drawing his lips away. The free hand then drags down Ed’s chest and abs, pressing over his aching ribs on it's way into his pants, where Roy squeezes and teases Ed’s halfie until he’s aching and grinding into it.

When Roy pulls away this time, his left hand rises to the top of Ed’s head and pushes hard, wordlessly ordering him to his knees.

Ed complies without taking his eyes off Roy’s face, and he settles on his knees, leaning back against the wall. Mustang’s breathing hard, lips shining and eyes looking dazed already. Something deep in Ed’s chest tells him how much Roy needs him right now, and it makes his mouth water.

He’s had experience sucking Roy’s cock over the past few nights he spent with him, and he’s done a little research in his absence to learn how to do it better. He starts with his left hand palming over his crotch, looking up when Roy leans a hand on the wall and shuts his eyes. Edward works him until he’s hard and pushing into it, and only when Roy sends a pointed look down at him does Ed undo his belt and pull his pants and underwear down.

There is something about this that Edward had quickly learned he craved. An implication that wormed it's way behind his ribs. Being on his knees for Roy is one of the things that solidifies whatever is between them. Cements his role as _this_. This warm wet pleasure for him, and Roy in turn, gripping his hair and urging him forward, is the pain and control that Edward needs just as badly.

Precum is salty along his tongue, slick as it mixes with spit all over Roy’s cock. So hot and heavy in his mouth, the weight and thickness is unforgettable, and so, so _arousing_. Unlike anything he's felt before.

Edward shuts his eyes and bobs his head, testing his gag reflex little by little. His left hand twists and strokes from the base up to where his lips reach. Roy is steadily making more and more little gasps, humming and carding his fingers through Ed’s bangs. Edward rolls his tongue, and Roy moans, melodious encouragement. The wet noises fill the silence, filthy and hot. Ed squeezes himself with his automail, his own cock straining in his pants and demanding attention.

Roy moans and leans his head on the arm he has propped up on the wall, eyes shut, “Mm, fuck, yeah yeah, just like that,” His voice is breathy and gritty, the first thing he’s said to Edward tonight, and Ed moans around him and sinks further until Roy's dick is hitting the back of his throat.

Roy groans and moves his hips in shallow thrusts, beginning to hold Ed’s head still. And Edward relaxes his jaw, his throat, and let’s Roy use him. He sucks when Roy leaves only the head in, hums when he can to hear those incredible noises Roy makes, and swirls his tongue just how he knows Roy likes.

“Oh, Ed-Edward, fuck,” Roy stares down at him, and Ed tries to keep his eyes up as much as he can, noticing each push in beginning to get deeper, harder, “God, you’re such a whore… my whore, just for me, huh?” The words are softer than usual, even as his thrusts get harder and harder and Ed chokes, his hands coming to grip Roy’s shirt, “My perfect whore, my perfect— _fuck_ ,”

The words work just as well as the force it takes to relax his gag reflex to make Ed’s eyes sting. His breath is cut off when Roy pushes his head against the wall and fucks his mouth with growing disregard. He gasps when he can, chest stuttering and struggling to catch his breath. His throat hurts, his jaw aches, but he never feels as good as when he's nothing more than a hole for Roy to fuck. He can't think of anything he wants more in moments like these. One hand sinks to his crotch and he flicks his pants open, taking himself in hand. Roy alternates between fucking into him, and sinking all the way in to hold him still and feel Ed’s throat swallow and choke around him. Instinctive panic constricts his chest when Roy settles all the way in and doesn’t let up, fingers pulling at his hair. Ed’s hands scramble to push him away, but at the same time they grip and pull him closer.

He’s light headed, dizzy and buzzed and so close to orgasm it’s honestly pathetic. The twist of slight embarrassment and pleasure throbs hot and heavy down through his stomach. Roy moans, catching tears in his palms as he takes Ed’s cheeks in his hands and fucks his mouth through his orgasm. The pull of his hair, and the raw pain in his throat is enough to make Edward come all over himself, whimpering around Roy’s cock with his eyes watering down his cheeks. Ed watches Mustang's face with heavy lidded eyes when Roy’s hips stutter and thrust hard and deep, spilling come through his mouth and down his throat.

His expression is a picture of bliss, and Ed feels privileged that he’s allowed to see him like this, that he _made_ him like this, “Fuck, Ed, oh, _Edward_!” He holds still and twitches in Ed’s mouth a few times before finally slipping out.

Edward coughs and gasps, swallowing mouthfuls of spit and come. He wipes drool from his chin, tears from his eyes, and catches his breath while Roy does up his pants and reaches for the whiskey. Ed stares up at him, tear tracks shining over his flushed cheeks, feeling the familiar tingle and simmer of afterglow settling all around him. It’s been so long since he’s had an orgasm like that, and he glances down at his crotch with a bit of embarrassment.

Come is wiped from his pants onto his jacket, which isn’t much better, but a little less noticeable, and he wobbles to his feet. He has to use the wall behind him to help him stand, and Ed realised he’s a little more intoxicated from the alcohol than he expected. Roy tops off the bottle and wipes his mouth, before heading back to his desk silently. This is how it goes, a tension sinking between them as they settle back to normal, and rarely acknowledge what happened before going their separate ways.

Edward gathers himself enough to feel steady on his feet, and massages his overworked jaw. He’d been hoping to fuck, but he’s sure he’ll get some before his next mission. Mustang is shrugging into his black jacket, and Ed looks to the papers all over the floor, deciding to let him clean it up later.

“Are you expected somewhere?” Roy asks when he walks back around his desk and towards the door, the question said with nonchalance though it catches Edward entirely off guard.

Ed blinks up when Roy stops in front of him again, and the implied follow up question made Ed’s stomach flutter, “I can make an excuse.” He’s quick to say, and Roy’s answering smirk is sharp and steady.

Roy pushes his bangs from his face with his dark eyes heavy lidded, pupils blown wide, “ _Good boy_.”

Ed chews his lip and follows him out.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *tongue click* NOICE
> 
> okay I make no promises for when the next will be up, three in one day may just be spoiling everyone (myself included) BUT what I can promise is that you're gonna get some Roy POV next time (unless I add another scene in between again)
> 
> you can thank all the lovely, _truly incredible_ comments for the amount of chapters up so soon, and if you want anything specific let me know bcus I need me some ideas to bulk this thing out (it's still the first multi-chapter thing I've ever posted, most just sit in my drive.... and by most I mean it's so much guys like so much...)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'ALL I have not written this much porn in a while, nor have I ever in my life posted this much porn
> 
> time to give Roy's perspective on this whole thing. he's a complicated kinda guy, and he's forcing plot on me that I didn't entirely intend on. and I thought Ed was the emotional one... anyway, no real warnings for this one. you get some spanking, some flogging, I threw a gag in there. Enjoy~

 

Edward was spitting fire, eyes wild and hair in a disarray, and the conviction in his voice was molten. Roy didn't bother paying attention to whatever he was saying, too transfixed on imagining his fist in blond hair, stuffing that insubordinate mouth with a gag and bending him over the desk. Oh the lovely feeling of his pert little ass in Roy’s hand, squeezed and slapped and spread. He knows just how hard he can hit now, and it’s nearly as hard as he can. He really is so pretty in black and blue.

Maes would kill him if he knew the awful, horrible, _depraved_ things he does to that boy. Just today his friend had called the Elric boys Elicia’s brothers, and Roy wondered if he'd even get a chance to apologise before the throwing blade sliced his throat. If Maes wasn't the one to do it, then Alphonse would.

“-and I fucking _tried_ to avoid the church, but the guy ran right through it, what the fuck was I supposed to do?! I fixed the floor, they should be grateful I spiced the place up a bit-"

But Edward had _begged_ , pleaded and argued and in the end Roy was just too weak to deny him. He’ll pay for this later, hell was already waiting for him, but he has long since memorised the soft little whines that come from that maledicent mouth, and there are days he feels they alone make it worth it. It had been so easy to get to this point, though that night he had expected to get an automail fist to the face and have Maes coming for his head.

“-and don't start bitching at me about the barn either, that bastard blew it to bits all on his own and-”

Roy can see bruises all over Fullmetal. He’s been gone long enough that they’re all from hands that aren’t his, and there is a distinct rage it brings. It’s not jealousy; not exactly, not _entirely_. No matter how infuriating the brat is, he doesn’t want to just _beat_ him. He had wanted to—control him. Hold the reigns of that golden wild animal. Direct him and break him and _own him_. So maybe it’s just a control thing, but it’s more than that too, because he is the only one allowed to own him. He is the only one allowed to make him feel pain or pleasure.

“-and fuck you, bastard, you aren't even listening to me, are you?!” He was outraged, gesticulating in a frenzy, and this game they play is as easy as breathing.

He remembers Ed without his automail arm, unable to transmute, and without his left leg he was unable to _walk_. The remembered sight is powerful enough to make Roy ache for it again. Edward’s metal arm caught the light, exposed through his ripped jacket and tank top. Roy would love to tear the rest off for him, knew the precise amount of exertion, and the _sound_ -

Roy held a bored expression with little focus, “Of course not,” He stated without hesitation.

Edward _seethed_ , and the expression was gorgeous on him. That pure, volatile anger bursting from his seams. Seams Roy wants to tear open himself.

“I already know _what_ happened, that wasn't my question. I want to know _why_ , Fullmetal,” The low tone of authority made Elric bristle like a cat, and later it would make him do whatever Roy ordered, “ _Why_ did you disregard my orders and refuse to call for backup and instead challenge your record for damage bills?” Roy motions to one of such, and there is only a bit of guilt on Ed's face, “I understand and attempt to account for your recalcitrance with each mission and still you find the exact method for disobedience to inconvenience me the most.”

“I don't have time to consider what's gonna fuckin’ piss you off the most, bastard! I was chasing a murderer!” He puts his hands on Roy's desk, leans closer with a glare that almost makes Roy shiver.

“Oh? But you had time to eat four orders of hotcakes and a fruit parfait that morning, as it states in the bill for that excursion here.” Because it wouldn’t come out of his research budget, of course.

Ed rolls his eyes, “That was before we knew who to go after!”

Roy's teeth grind. The boy’s condescension made them lock, “You didn’t report to me at all in the nine days you were there, Major,” He snapped, keeping the brunt of his anger off of his face, though it seeped into his voice, “You had one order to follow going into this mission, _report immediately_. Your actions reflect on me, and therefore I must filter them. Every mistake you make could be avoided if only you bothered to telephone in before taking action. When will you learn this?”

Roy watched the refusal on Ed’s face and knew how hard he would have to hit to wipe it off, though these days all it takes is that tone of voice.

“I’ve already learned _not_ to phone in whenever I have to make a turn on the road, bastard! I know a desk jockey wouldn’t understand, but what I do is time sensitive,” Edward crosses his arms, and the bruise on his jaw accents the sneer, “By the time you come up with whatever unnecessary scheme you had in mind, the guy could’a killed ten more people!”

He wants him tied to his bedpost, arms behind his back and kneeling on the floor in nothing but that tattered tank top, with only _yes, sir, please, sir, yes, sir_ , coming from his mouth.

Tonight, he promises himself.

“Believe it or not, Fullmetal, I was a field alchemist at one point,” Ed rolls his eyes again, and Roy’s fingers make sparks over the edge of his chair, “Never was reporting to my superior something _so_ detrimental to an assignment. If you have access to a phone, you call, if you’re there for longer than three days, you write. There is no excuse for otherwise.”

He wants to blindfold him, gag him, bind him, spank him, oh the terrible things he wants to do to him. He could lock Fullmetal, all trussed up so pretty, in a supply closet somewhere in the endless halls of Central Command, leave him for just long enough that the teen would _beg_ to be touched when he returned-

“It’s not a fucking excuse, I know what the fuck I’m doing!”

Roy leaned back in his chair and shook his head slow, “You have no idea what you’re doing, Fullmetal. You haven’t made a big enough mistake to learn that yet,” He said, and a sort of pain Roy found he didn’t like flickered across Edward’s face, but he’ll amend that later, “Six o’clock, Fullmetal. Dismissed.”

Edward bares his teeth and turns on his heel, voice dripping sarcasm, “ _Yes, sir_.”

 

Six o’clock and Fullmetal was bent over Roy’s kitchen table, a shining red ball gag between his teeth, and three of Roy’s fingers in his ass. Roy sat in his chair, alternating between teasing and spanking, and by now Ed’s ass was deliciously red. Edward had transmuted a crop and brought it with him, and Roy reached for it at the same time as he sunk a fourth finger in. Ed’s moan heaved his chest, and he pulled at the binds that had his arms tied behind his back, kicked weakly back at Roy as if that would give him permission to come.

In fact, Roy drew his fingers away and dragged the end of the leather crop over the fresh welts. Ed whined and sniffled, reduced to tears already. He always cried, whether from pain or pure pleasure, Roy wasn’t sure, but there were few if any times that he had seen Ed come without tears in his eyes.

It was beautiful.

The sound the crop made against Ed’s ass was drowned out by the loud groan it induced, and Roy adjusted the front of his pants, giving no pause or warning before striking twice more. The teen’s legs shook, and his precum smeared over the tabletop in a steady stream. It was a miracle he hadn’t came yet, though Roy was sure it was only because of the punishment he’d received last time he had came without permission. Fullmetal had spent the night with a cock ring on, and Roy will never forget the way he’d begged.

Now, with a wet gag in his mouth, all Ed could do was stare up at him with pleading eyes, shining with tears. His cheeks were red and tear stained, his hair messy all around his face, a wonderful scene no one else in the world has had the privilege of seeing.

He brought the crop down in him again, his thigh this time. Roy shut his eyes to appreciate the noises that filled his otherwise silent house.

Did Edward know what he sounded like? Does he pay attention to the arch of his spine, and tremble in his knee? Roy thinks he must be doing this on purpose, he can’t be as virginal as he had claimed, because no naive teenager would be able to look so effortlessly erotic. Roy should ask Maes to borrow his camera.

When Roy looks down at him again, Ed is wiggling his hips and blinking up at him, silently asking for more.

 _Incredible_. Roy smirks, pleased with how well trained his little whore is. The crop slices through the air and paint’s Ed’s skin with lovely purple welts. Ed’s whines choke, sounding gritty in his throat, and Roy knows his already rough voice with be almost gone tomorrow from this. But he’s sure the teen can find an excuse for it.

As much as he would love to go on like this all night, he knows any more and Edward won’t be able to hold his orgasm off, and Roy loves feeling it around him.

So, he sets the crop down beside the phone on the corner of his table, and takes a seat again. His hands play over all the lovely marks he’d left, and Ed sighs now, relaxing under Roy’s hands. He’s burning up, flushed and sweating, a promise of how hot he’ll be around Roy’s cock.

His pants are undone and pushed down enough to draw out his full cock. Ed’s legs spread just a bit further, and gold eyes peek at Roy over an automail shoulder. The lube dripping from him should be enough, it really has to be considering Roy can’t be bothered to reach for anything but Ed at the moment. He pulls the teen back to sit on his cock, and even after four fingers, he’s perfectly tight.

Roy groans when Ed sinks all the way down, hearing what has to be his name or rank muffled behind the gag. Ed clenches around him but doesn’t move an inch without instruction. There is a moment they rest like that, with Ed leaning his back to Roy’s chest, his head lolled on Roy’s shoulder, his legs splayed over Roy’s thighs. Roy licks at his neck just to feel Ed shiver, and he tastes so good…

The first move draws a moan from them both, Roy’s hands on Ed’s hips bouncing the teen in his lap. He starts slow, more for his sake than for Ed’s. Anything more than this and he’d come far too soon, and the same is true for Ed. It’s tight and hot and slick, like always, but there is never anything repetitive about their sex. With Roy’s previous lovers, he’d found himself needing something to incite interest and excitement.

With Edward, it is raw and untamed, and everything he had never been able to get from anyone else.

Ed is gone. By now, he’s really less of an active participant and more of a doll almost. Roy can bend him any which way, arrange him however he’d like. He could hurt him, fuck him, he could do anything, and Edward would make those delightful noises and come just as hard.

Just as Roy moves him faster, just as he begins bucking up in a chase for more friction, his phone starts ringing.

Roy freezes, and Ed whimpers in complaint at the lack of movement, breathing hard through his nose. It’s nearly seven at night, so anyone calling would be important. The receiver rattles on his table, and Roy reaches over to answer the phone.

He swallows before lifting it to his ear, “Mustang speaking.” He manages to not sound so out of breath by some luck, but his hand is nearly shaking.

Ed sniffles and shifts against him, tightening around him, but remaining quiet.

“Hey Roy!” It’s _Hughes_ , and Ed must be able to hear it too, because even he tenses up, “Sorry to call so late, but it is rather important. You aren’t busy right now, are you?”

Roy’s fingers dig into Ed’s waist when the teen tries to shift, and there is a gasped whimper from Edward on the edge of too loud, “Of course not, I was just having dinner.” He slides his left hand around to Ed’s stomach as he says it, feeling up to his chest, palm flat over the teen’s racing heart.

“Well I was just wondering when Edward stopped by your office tonight.”

The question sends cold panic through him, but any hesitation would be too telling, “A little after five, I believe, why?” Edward twitches and shifts restlessly, and Roy shuts his eyes to focus on anything other than the feeling of him clenching around him.

“Alphonse is spending the night at my house, and Ed was supposed to be at the library all night,” An adequate alibi, Roy supposes, though it must not have worked very well, “Only when Alphonse called, the librarian said he had never shown up. Did Ed say anything to you before he left?”

“Other than bitching, no, not that I recall.” Edward rolls his hips out of spite, and Roy bites his tongue.

Maes laughs, "I figured," He sighs into the phone and hums, “Kinda weird for him to disappear like this, though. Al’s rather worried, especially since something like this has happened recently…”

Roy isn’t really paying attention, too busy trying to stop Ed from moving any more, but it’s nearly impossible with only one hand, and when Ed lifts his hips and slams back down, Roy chokes on a moan and plays it off as a cough.

“W-Well, I’m sure he’ll turn up,” He says, digging his fingertips into Ed’s hip and hoping the boy’s whining isn’t loud enough, “See you tomorrow, goodnight,” He sets the phone down on the receiver without waiting for Hughes to reply, and in an instant he’s on his feet and bending Ed over the table again, moving his hips without pause.

“That was bad, Edward,” Roy growls, pulling at the gag and unlatching it.

Edward’s moans are unfiltered and desperate, and he rocks back into every thrust.

Though that won’t do at all. Roy fists his hair and holds him in place, relishing in the hiss and moan Ed gives, “What do you think would’ve happened if he heard you? If he heard _me_?”

Ed shut his eyes, eyebrows tipped up in an agonised sort of bliss, “I-I-Th-That wasn—nahaah!”

Roy gripped his abused ass cheek and fucked into him faster, “Did you want him to hear you, whore?” Roy asked, fingers tangled in a mess of blond, and he stilled as deep as he could inside of Ed when the boy didn’t answer, “Did you? Did you want him to hear you whining and desperate for me?”

Edward choked and tried to push back, but Roy had him pinned with his hips, “M-Mustang, p-p-please-”

Roy tightened his grip in the boy’s hair, and relished in every twitch of movement he made, “What would he think, hm? Hearing what a slut you are, hearing you plead and beg for me to fuck you, for me to hurt you and _use you._ Everyone would know what a whore you are,” But Maes wouldn’t think anything of Ed, he knows. He’d be too busy eviscerating Roy to think anything of how much Edward wanted it, “Do you _want_ him to stop this? I’d be lucky to make it out alive, Ed, and you’d never feel this again.”

Edward heaves each breath, drooling on the table and blinking teary eyes back to Roy, “W-Wouldn’t let ‘im,” He slurs, and grinds back Roy’s cock as much as the slight leeway allows, “Wouldn’t even get close…” He moans and shut his eyes, and Roy’s mind is reeling at the induced scenario of Edward fighting _Hughes_ of all people—someone he respects and admires, a _father figure_ to him—just to have this again, “N-Need it, Mustang, please-please, _colonel…_ ”

Roy moans and leans over him, moving his hips again and it’s a relief for both of them. Edward sobs into the table, and Roy bites his shoulder to smother the embarrassingly desperate moans he would’ve made.

This boy. _This boy_. He’d really do anything for him, wouldn’t he? Anything to be with him, at least. Anything to have Roy beat him and fuck him. The power rush is a high Roy has never felt before, heady and intoxicating. His head is floating to some other world, better than the finest whiskey he’s ever had. It’s terrible to think, but Edward is perfect for him in ways Roy’s sure no one could ever be, and the wrongness of it all is an accent to the pleasure. This beautiful whore, he has all to himself… needing him like he needs his next breath.

“So beautiful…” Roy moans against the bite mark he had left.

Ed comes right then, shaking and arching into the relentless pounding, “Mustang, _M-Mustang, Mustang,_ **_Mustang_**!”

Edward gasps and sniffles, and Roy licks the tears from his cheeks, coming inside of him. His orgasm is a flood through him, a rush that sweeps him into the air with sparks behind his eyelids. He’s never blacked out from an orgasm, but this time he loses a few moments to his ragged breathing and the sound of Ed finally settling down beneath him.

In his haze, he kisses over the bites on Ed’s shoulder, unbinds his arms and it feels like he’s watching from the back of his head, his hands float over Ed’s skin in soft pets. His lips move in murmurs of sweet nothings, but the words feel far away, no matter the way they make his chest constrict. Edward is hiccuping and pushing himself up with his left arm trembling. There’s something in his eyes when he looks back at Roy, and there isn’t a bone in his body able to resist leaning down and kissing those plush pink lips.

Ed hiccups into the kiss and Roy can’t believe the swirl of emotion he’s feeling. It’s not affection, it’s not. Of course Edward is cute, Roy has long since grown used to this, but to go from the most erotic being Roy has ever seen, to _this_ , gives him whiplash. Edward leans against him, and Roy can feel how unsteady he is on his feet. His arms come around him to hold him up, and they kiss until they’re both light headed again.

Roy looks down and Ed’s eyes are still closed, his wet lips parted ever so slightly. He's on the verge of cardiac arrest.

It’s not affection, _it’s not_.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> condoms are unnecessary in my fanfic world, also I care not for following canon timeline, so this is canonverse but just... in there somewhere idk
> 
> as always, thanks for reading! I have the next chapter written, mostly, but then after that it's an empty canvas so who knows. I have some scenes in mind.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOWZERS
> 
> okayyyyyyy ... back at it with Ed's POV, and porn. again. warnings for gay bois eatin' ass, and choking, technically.
> 
> enjoy~

 

The rain came down in sheets, a steady, relentless pound on the sidewalk around him. It was an outright downpour, really, and it had been like this for the past few days. Cracks of thunder and distant flashes of lightning. Ed’s sure the last time he’d seen a storm like this was years ago.

He doesn’t like thinking about that very much.

Around him, Central City is one massive flood, muddied water gushing and bubbling along the sides of the road and into every sewer. The oppressive clouds makes it seem like nighttime, despite the fact it’s only three in the afternoon. Headlights catch the raindrops, tires splash through puddles, and Ed makes his way through the city with his hood on but at this point it’s not doing anything. He’d been about to transmute an umbrella when he realised he was soaked to the bone anyway, and it wouldn’t do much.

His automail aches like a bitch. It always does in whether like this, the shift in air pressure and the cold working together to make him miserable. So, he hurries his steps on the now familiar path to Roy’s house where he's sure that misery will melt away. Alphonse is watching a group of kittens that had gotten stuck in the rain, looking for a shelter to take them to, and Ed had told him he’d be waiting for him at the dorms. If Al does happen to get there before him, he’ll find some excuse. Stuck in the storm, stopped to help someone with the flood. Every time he’s made some last minute excuse as to where he’s been, his brother had accepted it easily, and Edward almost wanted to test the limits of that.

It was unfair though, and the guilt from the fact that he was hiding something from Al had almost made him quit this whole thing on multiple occasions.

His resolve to end it always broke as soon as he stepped off the train in Central though, and as soon as Roy’s hands were on him again he knew he’d never give this up. It was something that was _his_. _Theirs_ , really. No one knew, and no one ever would. When they were together, fucking or fighting, or alone in any kind of private space, it was as if Ed was taken to a totally different world. Somewhere none of his worries existed, somewhere no one else could go or had ever been, somewhere only that distinct pleasure existed, where they could be together and the wrongness of it dissolved into just another twist.

In the back of his mind he does wonder how long it’ll last, but so far every alibi and lie has gone over smoothly. He’s more so worried about Hughes than Al, because his brother always believes the best of him, but Hughes’s sharp green eyes see through every facade they could construct. It’s by pure coincidence that he hasn’t found out yet, and Ed knows he’ll have to work a little harder to keep it that way.

Another loud boom of thunder erupts after a particularly bright stripe of lightning, and it hums in Ed’s chest. He’s close now, just a block away. Picking up his pace, he tucks the soaked red jacket around his figure and remembers to take the back way. One of Roy’s neighbours asked about him apparently, and it wouldn’t be good to be so familiar around here. There’s a small alley between the back fences that he takes, and it’s a mudslide now. Ed ducks, transmutes himself a bridge, and pads along until he gets to the right house.

Hopping the fence is easy, and the overgrown yard greets him with puddles and a shower coming from the stoop off the back porch. There’s a light on in the kitchen, and Ed walks in without bothering to knock.

The warmth is immediate, all encompassing, but there’s a smell in the air that catches his attention. It smells like something’s burning, or had been, and not the usual tinge of smoke from the fireplace. A wash of malaise sinks in his chest. Ed slips out of his boots and heads down the hallway just as another crack of thunder sounds throughout the house, and there is an accompanied shatter of glass that makes his heart race.

He comes up on the kitchen and living room and skids to a stop, eyes going wide at the sight of the curtains by the table burnt halfway up, the wall beneath the window charred, and the table itself with some damage as well. He looks to his left and sees Roy sitting on the floor in front of the sink, his crystal tumbler is shattered on the floor, and he’s chugging from a half gallon bottle.

An immediate ache constricts Edward’s chest, and he’s frozen, not knowing what he’s supposed to do, or how he should go about this. Another barrage of thunder, and Roy gasps, sets the bottle aside, and covers his face in shaking hands. Ed panics, looking around as if something in the room will help him. All he sees is another empty bottle, Roy’s gloves thrown towards the living room, and the understanding of what’s wrong comes in an instant.

The ache in his chest doesn’t lessen, but his brain sparks with an idea. He could get thrown out for taking a single step towards him, but if this works, they’ll both feel better.

He takes careful steps closer, swallowing tightly and making sure he’s loud enough that he doesn’t sneak up on him. Roy’s shaking all over, breathing in rough uneven gasps, and Ed kneels down in front of him. Thunder roars outside, just barely quieter than before, and Roy’s fingers dig into his face.

“Let’s take a bath,” Ed says, and Roy moves his hand down his face just enough to look up at him, “C’mon, we haven’t fucked in your bathroom yet.” He tries to keep his voice light, but his worry seeps in.

Mustang pushes his hair out of his face, looking down towards the broken tumbler, and now that Ed can see his full expression, he sees unveiled terror unlike anything he’s seen on Roy’s face, “I’m—drunk,” His jaw tenses, his throat moving when he swallows, and Ed edges closer, “You should go.” His words just barely slur, and Ed shakes his head.

“I don’t care if you’re drunk,” He grabs the bottle and Roy’s face turns in confusion when Edward drinks as much as he can in one go. It burns, and he barely manages not to make a face, “I’ll get drunk too.” Now Roy looks stunned, and Edward drinks more, wincing when he pulls away and gasps before drinking more.

“Edward, stop-”

Ed leans back when Roy tries to grab the bottle, and the alcohol feels like hot coffee in his stomach, burning all the way down. The taste reminds him of Roy, and he only stops when Roy manages to lean forward and grab the bottle from him. Ed takes a deep breath and wipes his mouth, “Let’s go take a bath.”

Roy is looking at him like he’s crazy, but there’s leftover panic in his expression still, and a flash through the window precedes another rumble, making him flinch, “I don’t get it. What are you trying to do?” He grits out, looking down at his lap, and Ed leans forward, running his mismatched hands up Roy’s thighs.

“You'll see, now c’mon.” Ed stands, and his center of gravity sways. His lowered blood volume makes a big difference with alcohol, it seems, but he’s not drunk, just buzzed enough to make this better, make this perfect.

Roy gives him a wary look before rising to his feet, and Ed is very aware of how he uses the counter to help him stand, and the way his steps are a little off, his posture slumped and lacking that bit of pride he carries with him everywhere he goes. The big bathroom is upstairs, and the bathtub is enormous. Ed’s definitely made note of it before, and he’s glad to finally put it to some use. They make it up the stairs with minimal stumbling, and the bathtub is a beautiful sight right now. There’s an empty wine bottle beside it, and he ignores it to turn on the water.

Roy shuts the door, leans back against it, and his silence alone is rather telling. He lets Edward adjust the temperature, and put in the fancy liquid soap to make it all bubbly, too. Then, Ed turns around to him and starts unbuttoning Roy’s shirt. He’s in his uniform on a Saturday, and that’s not a good sign either. The fact he left it on after coming home is probably worse.

The rushing water in the tub dampens the next beat of thunder as well as Ed had expected, and when the hint of the boom catches Roy’s ear, he only tenses up a little. Edward feels over his broad chest, pushing the shirt off his shoulders and tugging it down his arms. Next is his undershirt, and Roy wordlessly complies when Ed tugs it up. The exposed skin makes his mouth water, and it isn’t often he has free reign over Roy’s body like this. He touches where he’s ordered to touch, but at the moment Mustang doesn’t seem to mind anything Ed’s doing.

So he kisses Roy’s chest while undoing his belt. Sucks a small hickey over his collarbone when the belt drops. Just touching Roy like this is getting Ed worked up, and he loses himself in the skin for a moment, licking over old scars, feeling every muscle, and sinking to his knees in front of him. Roy’s eyes are shut, his lips parted, and the flush on his cheeks is incredible. Edward should get him drunk more often if this is the reaction.

Roy’s pants drop and he steps out of them. His underwear follow, and Ed wastes no time, licking his cock from the base to the tip with no hesitation. The feeling of Roy hardening beneath his tongue is amazing, the taste of him, the weight of him. Ed watches every reaction on Roy’s face and a flicker of the lights and a flash through the small window gives him warning of the next boom. He moans around Roy’s cock, loud and deep, and paired with the water, he’s sure Roy hardly even heard it.

Mustang groans, showing no sign of that fear he’d had earlier, and the pleasure on his face is a delightful change. It’s empowering, really. Edward’s never that good at consoling people, he doesn’t know what to do when someone cries. He’s better at actions, and this action is taking away every bit of anxiety from Roy. The thought makes him throb.

Edward pulls off his cock and looks back to see that the tub is adequately filled now. He stands, can feel Roy’s eyes on him as he undresses, leaving his soaked clothes in a pile by the sink.

Before, his nakedness had been uncomfortable. The first few times they’d done anything like this his nudity had been an embarrassment, but one that he had admittedly taken some pleasure in. There are certain times when it’s the same now, when Roy has him spread particularly wide, or covered in come and whispering the dirtiest things in his ear, but the simple nakedness is more comfortable now. There’s no hint of that embarrassed twist in his stomach, when he wonders if the scars are disgusting, if his automail is unnerving. He knows now Roy likes both of those things, and he’s sure he could spend the entire night naked with him if he was ever given the chance.

There’s lube in the cabinet, and Ed grabs it on his way to the tub. Roy follows behind him, silent still. The steam eases some weight off his shoulders, and the automail slowly stops hurting when his leg is submerged in the hot water. When Roy settles in front of him, he doesn’t hesitate to reach out and touch all over Edward. His face is getting back to his usual stoicism now, and Ed relaxes into Roy’s hold, shutting his eyes.

He’s starting to feel a bit dizzy. It’s the alcohol, surely, and it makes him float a little further from his body. The sound of the rain outside is calming almost, and Roy’s warm hands over his skin takes every last bit of tension from him. His heart flutters, every sensation reduced to _warmth_. Roy grabs his ass, bites his neck, and the heat in his stomach ups in temperature.

When he wiggles closer though, Roy stops him, “Turn around.” Ah, that voice… it's a relief to hear it again, especially considering the waver that had been there before.

“Yes, sir.” He does as he’s told, peeking over his shoulder when Roy pulls the tie from his hair and buries his fingers in the long locks.

Suddenly and swiftly, Ed is pushed to his hands and knees, his head forced underwater.

He flails, automail loud against the porcelain, and he chokes and sputters underwater, lungs feeling as though they’re about to collapse before Roy pulls him back up to let him gasp in air. The shock pounds his heart in his chest, and Mustang’s other hand on his hips pulls his ass back to grind against his hard cock. Just as Ed’s breathing settles, the hand in his hair pushes him under again, water splashing over the tub, and he’s sure his struggling is loud.

His bangs stick to his face when he’s pulled up, gasping and dripping water, and he’s about to ask what Roy’s doing when thunder crashes outside, loud and jarring, and he’s pushed under again. This time it’s longer, and sharp fear spikes in Ed’s chest, his hands grip the edge of the tub and water burns in his nose. His legs are stuck on either side of Roy’s thighs, and he tries to kick, tries to push up, but he’s only lifted from the water when Roy chooses to pull him.

Ed coughs, water dripping from his nose, “M-Mustang, w-wha-uhahaa!” The hand in his hair pulls his neck back, forcing him to arch his back, and at the same time, Roy’s other hand dips between the cleft of his ass, fingers covered in lube and pushing in without hesitation.

Edward’s eyes scrunch shut and despite, or maybe because of the shock and fear, he moans loud at the stretch. He’d been so unprepared he’s painfully tight, and Roy groans, fingering him fast and shallow, missing the good spot on purpose. He stretches him ruthlessly, and Ed pushes back into it. He’s caught his breath now, but he’s still panting, pain and fear and pleasure an intoxicating cocktail in his veins. It feels like the first time all over again.

True to his plan, though, Ed is loud. He moans and shouts and splashes, every noise echoing off the tiled floor and walls. Roy leans over him, three fingers teasing Ed’s ass, and his teeth dig into Ed’s shoulder, “Was this what you wanted, Edward?” He breathes the words, husky and rough, and massages his fingers against Ed’s prostate.

Ed only moans, neck aching from the pull of his hair, and his cock twitches underwater.

Just as suddenly as this had all happened, he’s released. The fingers gone from his ass and hair. Instead, Roy’s hands grips his hips, pulling his ass up more. Edward looks over his shoulder, eyes heavy lidded already, and he’s thrumming, burning all over. The buzz in his blood is indiscernible from the pleasure coursing through him, coiling tight in his stomach.

Then, he watches Roy bite his ass hard enough to make Ed moan. He bites and sucks all over, leaving beautiful marks over his skin. Edward shuts his eyes, imagining the bruises he’ll have by tomorrow. Roy’s hands spread him, and Ed is shocked to feel his tongue lapping at his hole.

“O-Oh, M-Mustang!” This is something they’ve never done before, and Edward’s eyes are wide, his back twisted to let him see Roy’s face buried in his ass.

Dark eyes stare up at him, his big hands keeping Ed spread and holding him in place. His tongue traces circles, and it’s a pleasure Ed had never though existed before now. He pushes back into it, moaning unabashed and wanton, and then Roy’s tongue pushes _inside_ , and he’s gone. Edward shakes, amazed at the sight and sensation. He whimpers and mewls, feeling so close already, and he hasn’t even touched his cock.

Roy pulls away, spit dripping down his chin, and that confident smirk on his face is gorgeous, “You like that, hm?” His finger slip in again, and Ed chokes on a moan, watching Roy lean in again, working him open on three fingers and his tongue, “What a slut,” Roy _laughs_ , and that gleam in his eye has wiped away the last remnants of his panic, “You could come from my tongue on your ass alone, couldn’t you?”

Ed moans, wiggling his hips into it and closing his eyes. The hand in his hair is a warning this time, but he isn’t given enough time to prepare himself. His head is plunged underwater, and Roy fucks him with four fingers, sending shocks of pleasure up his spine to meet the contradicting ache of panic in Ed’s chest. Bubbles erupt around him, his struggles loud even underwater, and his hands slips on the edge of the tub, and that resistance had been what was keeping his head close to the surface. Roy bites _hard_ , and pulls Edward’s head back up again, letting him cough and heave a breath before sending him back under again.

Ed’s head is spinning, disoriented between the clash of intense pleasure and fear. Fear so sharp and real and consuming. Roy’s hand is unwavering in his hair, holding him down effortlessly, and it hits Ed with all the weight of the world that he could just as easily _kill him_ right now.

He comes untouched into the water, shaking and bucking back, and his moans are loud underwater, but louder when Roy pulls him up. He spits and gasps and braces himself on the edge of the tub, feeling a sting in his eyes and Roy lets go of him completely.

“You came from that?” Mustang asks, sounding shocked.

Edward doesn’t look back. His cheeks are burning, and his chest is heaving with every breath, and he sniffs and swallows before speaking, “Y-Yes, sir.” He mumbles, the tingling aftershocks of his orgasm running through him in waves.

Roy’s arms come around him and pulls him back to sit on his lap. Lips come to Ed’s temple and he leans his head to the side, relishing in the sensation of the soft kisses. Roy pecks along his face to his jaw, to his ear, nibbles and licks and holds him to his chest in a tight embrace.

“Incredible… you’re incredible, Edward…” Roy praises, and Ed sighs, letting the words engrave in his memory to be replayed later.

Then, Roy is lifting him from the tub, standing and helping him onto his feet outside of the bath. Edward doesn’t know if it’s from the orgasm or the alcohol, but he has to brace himself on the counter. His world is spinning, the floor beneath his feet like a boat on a stormy sea. He watches Roy in the mirror as the man grabs a towel and rubs Ed down, starting from his head.

Edward blinks fast and tries to ground himself. The towel is soft over his skin, and Roy pats him dry thoroughly and gently. Ed swallows and clears his throat before he can speak, “You didn’t get off.” He says, and Roy looks at him in the mirror, his expression holding that sadistic satisfaction that Ed’s memorised.

“Oh I’m not finished with you yet, Edward.” He says, and Ed shuts his eyes, shivering when Roy wraps the towel around him and reaches for his own.

The rain is still pouring outside, but Ed realises that through all that, he hadn’t heard a single bit of thunder. He holds the towel around his shoulders and hears the tub draining before Roy pulls him through the hall to the bedroom. The house is dark, and Roy doesn’t bother turning on the light. Ed’s steps wobble, and he leaves the towel on the floor when Roy pulls him onto the bed.

There’s a pair of handcuffs Roy seems to just leave on his bed frame, and he arranges Edward to his liking on the bed. He’s laid back, hands pulled above his head and cuffed, and his legs are pulled around Roy’s waist.

A brief flash through the curtains, and they have a moment of eye contact before Roy’s fingers hurriedly push inside of him, and the thunder mixes with Ed’s loud moan nicely. It seems Roy’s caught on to his motivation now, and Ed’s happy to know it must be working.

His head tips back, wet hair in a mess against the pillows. His cock twitches, and so soon after an orgasm like that it’s just too much, but Roy doesn’t care in the slightest. Another flash, and Roy’s other hand grips Ed’s waist leaving fingerprint bruises with how tight he’s holding. His fingers are warm and wet, sliding in and out, hitting Ed’s prostate on every thrust, and his spine arches with a shudder. He’s so hard again already, twitching and leaking over himself. The thunder barely reaches his ears, every moan growing louder and desperate.

“F-Fuck, please fuck me,” Ed whines, looking down at Roy with pleading eyes and locking his ankles behind his back, “Please, I-I wanna come, I need t-to— _fuck_!”

“Oh you’ll come,” Roy promises, and though his eyes are nothing more than a shine in the darkness, Ed can see they’re watching his fingers move intently, “A few more times, even.”

Edward starts a reply when Roy leans down and sucks the head of his cock in his mouth, and every word he could’ve thought of is burned from his mind. His hips move unconsciously, writhing on the bed between the fingers in his ass and the hot mouth over his dick. It’s too much, too soon, and Ed sobs a moan, turning his head into his arm with a heaved gasp.

“Please, please, Mustang, please, _please_!” He chokes, eyes rolling back and the pleasure coiled tight in his stomach overwhelms him. Roy sinks down on his cock, swallowing come and groaning around him.

Tears sting his eyes, and he gasps and shudders because Roy _isn’t stopping_. His fingers curl and his tongue laves over Ed’s cock. The pleasure is now a near painful shock, and his legs over Roy’s shoulders jerk and twitch.

“I can’t, I can’t, _please,_  I-I-” Edward pulls at the cuffs, his body in constant movement, writhing and arching, "Stop, please, s'too much, fuck,  _Mustang, please_!"

He’s getting hard again already, and he has no idea _how_. Roy hums in approval, twisting his fingers. There was no pause, no reprieve and he knew pleasure could hurt, but this is different. The storm outside is gone from Ed’s mind, nothing more than background noise beneath the thrumming of his heartbeat in his ears. His throat is raw from his shouting and moaning. Every thought in his mind has centered around Roy, his mouth, his fingers, his hand on his thigh, his teeth digging into Ed’s skin, even the hint of his cologne on the sheets. There’s nothing but Roy right now, and it’s too much, too much, too much-

He comes _again_. Tears are hot down his cheeks and he gasps and goes bowstring taught before he’s coming in Roy’s mouth for the second time. He’s limp on the bed after that, every ounce of energy has drained from him, and it’s then that Roy leans back and lines his cock to Ed’s stretched hole.

Ed _sobs_ , “Mustang, _please_ …”

Roy slides in and Ed thinks he might just die. He’s folded in half, with Roy leaning over into him and moaning against his skin.

A flash, and Roy starts fucking him, “Louder,” He groans, Ed’s lungs stutter, “ _Louder_.”

Edward moans and his head rolls to the side, eyes falling shut, “Fu-Fuck, god, it’s too much, Mustang, Mustang, _o-ohh fuck_!”

Roy pulls his hips into every thrust, panting and groaning over him. His thick cock stretches Ed more than his fingers ever could, filling him over and over again. The filthy sounds fill the room, wet noises, slaps of skin on skin. The bed hits the wall over and over, the handcuffs rattling. But none of it compares to Edward. He holds nothing back, where usually he might bite his lip and smother the embarrassing whines, now isn’t the time. He let’s every noise he could possibly make out into the open air, between a ramble of Roy’s name and a plead for _‘more, harder, fuck me fuck me, faster, please’_.

Flushed head to toe, sweating and damp from the bath, Edward comes for the fourth time that night, moaning and crying and blissed out of his mind. Roy doesn’t stop, fucking into him until he’s collapsed on top of him and grinding desperately into Ed’s tight heat. When he does come, he’s seated as deep as he can be, moaning Ed’s name over and over again and wrapping his arms around him, forcing every inch of their bodies to press together.

Ed whimpers and presses his face to Roy’s shoulder. There isn’t a thought in his mind that he can grasp with any sort of coherence. He’s dizzy and dazed, and Roy hums and licks up his neck.

Then, he brings his lips to Ed’s, and somehow unlocks the handcuffs at the same time. Ed’s left shoulder aches, and he brings his arms around Roy’s neck, kissing him sloppy and slow because he can’t be bothered to put much thought in it. He licks over Roy’s lip, and then into his mouth, sighing into it and finding himself rather sleepy. The afterglow is still spinning in his head and pulsing hot in his cheeks with every beat of his heart, and distantly he knows he needs to get to the dorms.

The next burst of thunder only makes Roy sigh.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I have more written, but I'm not sure when it's going to be up. Still surprised I'm posting so frequently like this
> 
> I am unhappy with this chapter, but not enough to scrap it. I hope you liked it, in any case.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am back! at least for one chapter, i dunno about the next one bcus i like to keep the next one done before posting one, and so now i gotta write more  
> porn porn porn, gotta love it. i don't feel the need to put any warnings for this one, because it's nothing new for this fic really, aaaaaaand Roy's POV againnn

 

Roy twirls his pen, reading over the file with most of his attention elsewhere. It was a mission request for Fullmetal, and halfway through he’d decided there was no way he could send Edward there. A diplomatic mission near the Aerugan border, where alchemists from the other country were accused of stealing research from a nearby laboratory. Why in the world General Walston was requesting Fullmetal to investigate and negotiate for this was beyond Roy. Their relations with Aerugo were already tense and fragile, and Edward was no dignitary.

Besides, Fullmetal was busy in Central right now. He’d found some sort of book in the library that broke a dam of research with it’s information. Edward hailed the author and spent days locked away in a private study room in the library. Which they had thoroughly defiled over the past week, whenever Roy was off work and Alphonse was busy doing something or other around the city.

And at the moment…

 

—

 

“Wait-Wait, please, sir, d-don—nnmf-!” The gag was forced into Edward’s mouth, Roy’s left hand fisting his bangs to hold him still.

“Stay quiet or someone will hear you, Fullmetal,” Roy leaned back to look over his handiwork, and Ed’s glare was greatly demeaned by the come over his face, and the pout of his lips around the gag.

He’d tied his hands behind his back, and the rope looped over his chest, rubbing his skin red and raw, digging into his side and his bicep. He was stripped to his socks, his legs bent beneath him, ankles tied to his thighs, with a spreader bar at his knees. The rope was Ed’s handiwork, transmuted from something softer than anything actual rope would’ve been. When he'd brought it to him, there had been a few ideas in mind. Roy had found this particular supply closet the other day and it was _perfect_ for this. On a particularly empty hallway, and nestled between two bathrooms for better soundproofing.

Edward writhed, saying something beneath the gag that Roy couldn’t even begin to guess at, and Roy ran a single finger along the length of his hard cock. Ed’s struggles stopped, his hips canting up into it, a desperate little whine from the back of his throat.

Roy smirked, “I have to go back to work now, unfortunately,” He runs his thumb over the leaking head, and leans down to roll his tongue up in a slow drag over him, and he can feel the twitch on his tongue.

Ed whines and bucks up against him, and the way he moves, constricted with all the intricate rope is beautiful. Roy blows over the wet trail he’d left, and he’s sure the noise Edward makes is loud enough to draw some attention.

So Roy rises to his feet and looks down at him with a hum of satisfaction. The bites he’d left last time are gorgeous on him, hand prints and hickeys too, and to know he made them is a delight. He remembers each one, and the wonderful noises Edward had made when he’d gotten them.

The teen turns pleading eyes up at him, making a noise against the gag, and Roy’s smirk widens to something more like a smile, “I’ll be back, soon, don’t worry.”

 

—

 

It’s about time he check on him now, though two bathroom breaks within an hour is probably going to be noticed. Luckily, Hawkeye is busy on an assignment today, a rare occasion, and Havoc went along with her as well. That leaves the three out there to catch on, and they aren’t a part of his team for no reason. But, with Hawkeye gone, the authority in the office slides back in his favour, and so he calls an early lunch, and heads on his way.

“Thanks, colonel! Did you want anything from the deli?” Breda asked, and Roy shook his head with a small smile.

“I’ll grab something for myself from a cafe, thank you.” And the others leave, none the wiser.

Roy checked his pocket watch, seeing it had been just over twenty five minutes since he’d left Fullmetal, and he can imagine how furious he must be. Touching him now will send him to orgasm in moments, he’s sure, but Roy wants to drag this out a little longer.

He waits for the hallway to clear before stepping back inside, and Edward is there, of course, flushed to the tips of his ears and still as hard as ever.

Roy smirks and steps over to him, “Having fun, Fullmetal?” He asks, and Ed’s responding glare wobbles and tips in a desperate sort of way, his hips wiggling back and forth in a silent beg, “What did you think about while I was gone, hm?” He kneels and lets his rough gloved hands run up Ed’s thighs, “Did you think about what I’d do when I return? Or did you think about what would happen if someone found you like this? Tied and covered in come… would you beg them, Edward?”

Ed shuts his eyes tight and shakes his head.

“No?” His shaking continues, and when his eyes crack open, Roy can see how far gone he is, “ _Good_ ,” Roy lets his right hand brush against Ed’s dick, and just the slight contact makes him twitch and moan, “I don’t think I could stand to share you, Edward…”

Roy reaches into his coat pocket and retrieves his premeditated bottle of lube. Edward whimpers at the sight, tipping his head back and Roy can see sweat glisten along his neck. It makes his mouth water.

“I do wish I could, sometimes,” He says, shoving his gloves in his pocket and soaking two fingers in the slick, “I think it’d be nice to see someone else’s expression if they saw you like this. To see them want you so badly, to hear them beg to touch you, but I never could,” Ed’s chest stutters when Roy trails his finger down between his legs, and he’s still wet from earlier, “It really is a shame, but I’m much happier keeping you all to myself,”

Edward moans when he pushes inside, arching his back off the floor. His abs tense and flex, and Roy watches his muscles move, enrapt. His fingers move in shallow thrusts, avoiding his prostate to draw this out. Ed’s chest moves with each heavy breath, his stomach tensing when he whines, and his hips move in short circles, trying to get Roy’s fingers angled right.

He really is beautiful. Muscled and, though Roy’s sure Ed would have his head just for thinking it, _compact_. All that strength in his five foot five body, all that power and intelligence managing to fit as well. He’s a treasure, and here he is, bound and trapped, at Roy’s complete mercy. No one knows the Fullmetal Alchemist how Roy does, they don’t know what an absolute whore he is. How he begged and outright _demanded_ to be fucked, to be spanked, to be choked. Only Roy knows him completely, knows parts of him so intimately that Alphonse is probably blissfully unaware of.

Roy leans over him to feel those muscles beneath his lips. He crooks his fingers, and Ed shudders, moaning loud enough to make Roy stop, “Now, now,” He says over the immediate whine Ed makes in complaint, “Do you need a moment to calm down, Fullmetal?”

Ed’s eyes go wide, watering just at the mention and he shakes his head, every noise he makes wrecked and desperate, and Roy stands with a sigh, wiping his fingers on a handkerchief.

“I do love those noises you make, but if you can’t keep quiet right now, we’ll both be in trouble,” Edward’s eyes fill with tears, and he rolls his hips with a rather enticing sway, arching his back and gasping the quietest little noises that Roy’s sure are meant to make him stay, “I’ll let you collect yourself a little bit more while I grab a bite to eat,” Ed’s eyes screw shut, his face contorted in that particular frustration that sends a throb to Roy’s crotch every time he sees it, “Stay desperate for me, okay? I’ll fuck you so good when I come back, I promise,”

Ed’s eyes crack open, eyelashes catching the light with tears in them, drool and come shining down his chin.

Roy turns and leaves, shutting the door behind him carefully, and moving to the bathroom next door immediately. The few lower officers at the end of the hall didn’t really pay attention to him, and so he washes his hands and lets the cold water calm him down.

He’s hard enough for his pants to be uncomfortable, but a few cold shower thoughts help with that. It is a struggle, though, with Ed’s face flashing in his mind every time he tries to imagine Breda naked. He tries to think of simple things, like the park by his house, burning his tongue on coffee, anything to take his mind off of it, but between each image is Ed’s face, gold eyes _glowing_ , his eyebrows tipped up in pleasure, and those noises play in a loop in his head.

Roy leaves the bathroom and heads for the mess hall without daring to glance over his shoulder. He’ll grab a sandwich, eat as much as he can, and go right back. Anything longer and he might even come right in his pants like a teenager.

It’s been a while since he came anywhere other than on, or inside of Edward. Even longer since he had thought of doing anything with anyone other than him.

He should probably be worried about that, but Ed’s muffled moans are still stuck in his head, thus the brainpower is taken already.

The mess hall gives him a plain ham and cheese sandwich and Roy gets halfway through before he gives up, washes it down with coffee that has an unhealthy amount of sugar in it, and goes right back down the hall.

Halfway there, of course, Brigadier General Jessen stops him.

“Colonel Mustang! I had been hoping to arrange a meeting with you soon.” The man says, grinning pleasantly and clapping him on the shoulder.

Roy tries not to grind his teeth too bad, “I’ll have my aide find an available time as soon as she’s back, sir,” He says, and out of courtesy alone, asks, “What did you need to meet about, general?”

“There’s been some reports of chimerae near West City,” The general said in a lowered voice, “Officials there were hoping to get your little alchemist boy on the case, but we can go over the case file in the meeting.”

“Of course, sir, it sounds like Fullmetal’s kind of job.”

“Be sure to schedule a meeting soon, colonel,” Jessen said and thankfully stepped away to leave, “I’ll expect you later this week.”

Roy saluted with a nod, “Yes, sir.”

The man waved him down and went on his way, leaving Roy to continue in the opposite direction. Chimera near West City did sound like a job for Fullmetal, but it makes Roy think of the scars on his left arm and leg, and he wonders if Armstrong is up for the task.

The supply closet looms ahead, and Roy tries not to draw any attention by walking faster than he needs to, but his feet unconsciously hurry the closer he gets. He makes sure the hallway is empty yet again before he turns into the supply closet.

Edward is already moaning just at the sight of him.

 _My little alchemist boy_.

He steps towards him and notices something—Edward _came_. Come splattered across his stomach and chest, though his cock was hard and leaking still. The way Ed wasn’t quite looking him in the eye made Roy’s heart pick up.

“Edward… did someone-” Ed’s already shaking his head, tears shining down to his jaw line, and there is obvious embarrassment in his face, “You came just like this?” Ed scrunches his eyes shut and nods, “Without being touched?” He nods again, whining and turning his head. Roy kneels in front of him, reaching to undo the gag, “How?”

Ed rolls his jaw and pouts his lips, “I-I don’t know.”

“Yes you do, Edward,” Roy chimed, letting his hands skim lightly down Ed’s sides, over his hips until Ed wiggled for more, “Maybe I should punish you,” Edward groans in frustration, “You did come without permission.”

“I-It was just-I-” Ed shuts his eyes tight, his flush high on his cheeks and across the bridge of his nose, his brows furrowed, “A-All I could think about was how much I wanted it— _you_ , and-and then I couldn’t help it.”

“You came just from thinking about me? Just from imagining it?” Roy watches those radiant gold eyes crack open and stare down at him.

Ed nods head tilted to the side, “Will you fuck me now?” Roy arches an eyebrow and Edward swallows, “P-Please, sir.”

Roy hums and watches as his fingers trail over Ed’s warm skin, catching on the rope, “Try again.”

He leans down and licks down from Ed’s navel, hands gripping his hips to keep him still, “Please fuck me, sir,” Roy lets his lips graze down Ed’s now fully hard dick, “Aah, p-please, G-General Mustang, sir!”

Roy moans and takes his cock to the back of his throat, making Ed gasp and moan and buck up into him. Roy sucks and rolls his tongue and pulls off with a pop, breathing hard with spit dripping from his lips, “Try again.”

Edward whines, eyes shining, “Fuck me, please, sir, please, F-Fuhrer Mustang, s-sir.”

 _Oh fuck_. Roy can’t believe how hot it is to hear such a thing from him, and it takes every last bit of his restraint to carefully burn the ties from Ed’s limbs and remove the spreader bar, “On your knees, Major.” He breathes.

Ed follows the command without hesitation, collapsed down on his elbows, back arched magnificently, ass on display. The rope has already left bruises, and where it hasn’t there are lovely red lines and rope burn. Roy undoes his pants within seconds, lining up and leaning over him in the slide.

The teen shakes, muffling every sound in his arms, though he’s still dangerously loud. Roy sighs and moves slow. It’s not quite slick enough, but the friction of it is incredible, tight and hot around him. He’s absolutely thrumming with pleasure on the third thrust, pulling Ed’s hips back into each one.

“F-Fuhrer… Fuhrer, oh-oh…” Ed’s legs splay further, and Roy’s cock slides deeper.

He kneads Ed’s ass, and spreads him. God all the filthy noises echo in the little closet, someone must hear them, surely they would know… Roy moans and bends over Ed’s small frame, fucking into him faster.

“Ed, f-fuck, feel so good.”

Ed moans over his arm, his breath hiccuping and stuttering in his chest, and suddenly he’s coming, shaking and whining, face pressed into the floor, “F-Fuhrer, oh yes, yes, R- _Roy_!”

Roy sinks his teeth into Ed’s shoulder, moaning into his skin and abandoning all rhythm in a chase for friction. He’s never heard Edward moan his name, and no one has ever said it with such reverence. In the start of this, Roy wouldn’t have liked that. It's too personal, though that doesn't stop him from moaning Edward's name in any way he likes. In the beginning, he would’ve scolded him for that, but it just sounds so nice…

“ _Fuck_ , Ed…”

He comes inside him, rolling his hips through his orgasm. It’s probably the fastest he’s came in a long time, but all the teasing works both ways. When he pulls out, Ed makes a soft little noise, and Roy pulls him up, turns him around and gets a good look at the dazed expression before he kisses him. He’d like to pretend it’s to busy himself while he catches his breath, but more and more he kisses him for the sake of it. For the fact that he _likes_ kissing him, and feeling the way his flesh fingers curl in his hair, and the automail grips his shirt. In the time they’ve been doing this, Edward has gotten better at it, too. He knows how to use his tongue, and how to tilt his head.

Roy wants to teach him more.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> better than the last chapter? worse than the other ones? idk maybe i've been desensitized to the kinky porn bcus i feel like its lacking the same... punch. tho maybe bcus it's literally lacking punch this time
> 
> also i went into this whole fic thinking it'd stay small and no one would like it or comment, but the amount of comments i've gotten is like, !wow!, so replying to them all really inflates the numbers and i've already done that a lot in this fic so far. what i'm saying is, please comment if you want! but i might not reply like i have been bcus right now half of the numbers are my replies... i still appreciate every single one !!!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> every chapter is porn, that's a record for me. and it's good porn too, even crazier.  
> no warnings here, Roy's POV again, more kinky things, as usual, and _feelings_ , oh my god he has feelings.
> 
> thank you to all the great comments I've gotten!!!!! I love you guys, srsly. very validating. makes my day.  
> enjoyyyyyyyyyyy~~

Three weeks worth of paperwork and waiting, and Ed is back from a mission to the west.

“The boys are staying at my house this weekend,” Hughes says over a mouthful of food, “I think Ed said he had something to do Saturday though, work I assume?”

“Nothing I’ve given him.” Roy replies, just short of a lie. It’s not _work_ , so that answers that question.

Maes hums and sips at his drink, “Al mentioned something strange to me the other day,”

Roy very carefully does not look up from his mess hall tray, but he can feel a wave of dread sink from the back of his head, all the way to the base of his spine.

“Something about Edward disappearing for odd hours of the day, sometimes into the night,” Maes doesn’t sound too concerned, just as curious as the younger Elric had been, probably, “Alphonse thinks he’s sneaking off to research when he’s meant to be resting.”

Roy glances up at that, “And what do you think he’s doing?”

Maes smiles with pride, “I think he’s found himself a girlfriend.”

Roy chokes on his sandwich and plays it off into a laugh, “We are talking about Fullmetal, aren’t we?”

Maes laughs too, “I know, I know,” He sighs, still smiling, “I honestly thought he wasn’t interested in anything like that, but when I told Al that’s what I thought, he said he might’ve even seen a hickey!”

Roy’s mind flashes to the bites he left most recently, _I’ll need to be more careful about that_ , “It’s a theory, I suppose.”

“Well what do you think he’s doing?”

Roy shrugs and leans back in his chair, “Hunting down books on the black market, maybe a little vigilantism, drugs,” Maes barks a laugh at the last one, “Definitely nothing like _romance_ , who could tolerate dating Fullmetal?”

His company is best when he has Roy’s cock in his mouth, but Roy had to admit, there were times when their conversations flowed a little too easily, when his guard went down and he hadn’t even noticed. Sometimes he’d look at the clock and realise they’d been laying in bed for an hour after the fighting and fucking was done, and he’d have to usher Edward out the door.

“I don’t think you’re the fairest judge of that,” Maes laughed, finishing his food before he continued, “You two are too alike.”

“You’re joking.”

Maes shook his head with a smile, “Not at all. Anyway, we should go out for drinks this weekend, haven’t been out with the boys in a while.”

“Friday.” Roy says, because he’s busy Saturday.

 

Saturday is spent in the office until noon, and when he arrives home he finds Edward kneeling about six feet in front of his door.

He’s naked down to his socks, blindfolded, with a collar around his neck that Roy most certainly didn’t provide, and his arms crossed behind his back.

The sight takes the breath from his lungs, and Roy has to lean back on the door to take it all in. His knees are weak, and his eyes flit all over him, unsure of what he likes the most.

Edward shifts in the brief silence, licks his lips, and he’s so hard already, the head of his cock shining with precum, “W-Welcome home, sir.” He says, and it feels as though all the blood in Roy’s body has sunk to his crotch, hot and throbbing.

Roy hangs up his jacket in slow movements, not daring to take his eyes off the blond whore who has readied himself and waited for him to come home. It’s a thought that aches so pleasantly, knowing he owns this. He can have this at a single order, and as it seems, without even needing to do that. Roy quickly found that the fact Edward _wants_ this, wants the pain and the punishment and everything else Roy can dish out, is even more arousing than when he had imagined forcing him into it.

There is a thin silver chain on the floor beside Edward, one end with a latch, the other with a leather loop, and Roy walks to pick it up immediately.

He takes a knee in front of Edward, and the teen shivers, “What a delight it is to come home to you, Fullmetal,” Roy purrs, and he can see the blush rise all over him. It had been immediately made obvious Edward had an intense praise kink. Roy used it to his advantage, and found that someone as cocky and arrogant and _powerful_ as the Fullmetal Alchemist _begging_ for his praise was intoxicating. He threads his fingers through Ed’s bangs, “Have you been waiting long?”

Roy hooks the chain to the collar and notices the tag, “N-Not really.” Ed turns his face and nuzzles into Roy’s hand.

The tag says _Roy’s_ , and nothing else, with transmutation marks along the edges of the smooth metal. Magnificent.

“I have some work to do, you know,” It’s a lie, but Edward doesn’t know that, “You’ll have to wait a little longer, Fullmetal.”

Ed swallows and nods his head, “Y-Yes, sir.”

Roy rises to his feet, leaving the chain dangling from the collar, “I want you to stay here and wait for me. No touching yourself, understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

Not a hint of hesitation. What a wonderful thing that is.

“Good boy.”

Ed whimpers a little, and Roy wonders if _he_ can make it another ten minutes without fucking him right there on the floor.

He bites his lip and walks around him, looking over his shoulder at Ed’s perfect ass. From behind he can see lube dripping down Ed’s thighs, and his will power is bleeding out with every step away from him he takes.

Upstairs, Roy changes out of his uniform as slowly as he can, trying to bide a bit of time to keep up his charade. He doesn’t bother putting on underwear, and the pants are already uncomfortably tight.

It strikes him as he folds his uniform, that he has never been so uncontrollably and _unmanageably_ turned on by anyone in his life. Edward in any pose or position takes the top spot for most erotic thing he’s ever seen. A single look—with Ed’s dazzling gold eyes heavy lidded, pupils blown, looking so dazed and out of it that Roy’s sure he could ask him to do _anything_ and the boy would without question—and Roy is just as gone with it. He has never wanted anyone so badly.

Roy thinks it should be scary realising such, but he’s too far into this to worry about it. If Edward found out he was just as helpless, then maybe he’d have a problem, but for now, he is in control.

Mostly.

Roy goes across the hall to his study, glancing down the stairs to see Ed in the same position as before, fidgeting restlessly. He can wait a while longer, surely. Last time proved that quite well.

In his study he had left a book open, and Roy picked it up with no real intention to read it. It was some new print about elemental runes. He remembers thinking last night that Edward would probably think it’s all bullshit, and that he’d like to hear the rant. He’d debase all of Roy’s previous alchemy knowledge with a few sentences and a roll of his eyes, and it’s amusing to see him so oblivious to his brilliance, and so arrogant about it at the same time.

He’d even managed to get his hands on one of Roy’s own journals some time ago, his _coded_ journal, no less. When Roy noticed it out of place, he’d opened it to find notes in the margins, some even being _compliments_. Backhanded little ones like, _wow, I didn’t think you were smart enough to figure this one out_ , but Roy’s pride set aside, he could admit that any time Ed was able to compliment another alchemist other than his own brother, was incredible.

Roy blinks down at the page in front of him, and stands without reading another sentence. He’ll unpack all that later, when he isn’t so horny with a ready body downstairs waiting for him.

He had intended to wait a while more, but he couldn’t for the life of him string together one thought without Edward in it. Of course, he’s waiting in the same spot as he had been, and when Roy walks down the stairs slowly, Ed’s shoulders fall a little, and his head turns ever so slightly to his right. His head follows as Roy walks around him and grabs the chain. He gives a small tug and Ed sighs.

“Stand.”

“Yes, sir.”

Edward wobbles to his feet and Roy holds the chain taut, leading him through to the living room. He sits in the middle of the couch, and Ed stands still in front of him. Roy takes his hands to center him, and pulls him closer.

“On my lap.”

“Yes, sir.”

Edward straddles him like they’ve done many times before, and the collar around his neck is such a pretty accent. Roy’s gloves were left upstairs, and he wishes he could have firelight behind him, watching the flames bathe Ed’s golden complexion in all their vivid hues. Ed settles against him, his hands flat on Roy’s stomach, and warm even through his shirt.

Roy runs his left hand up Ed’s torso, over his chest and collar bone, slipping to the back of his neck to pull him into a kiss. He doesn’t usually kiss like this, not so early on. He’d be stupid not to have noticed how much Edward likes kissing, though. Roy doesn’t have any particular aversion to it, he likes it as much as the next person really, it’s just too soft for this, for them. He doesn’t hug him, and they certainly don’t _cuddle_. Sometimes Roy just has to wrap himself around Ed when he needs all the skin contact he can get, but that doesn’t count. Kissing is intimate in a way they are not, and will not be.

But the soft little sigh Edward makes into him is worth it. He tastes like blueberries, so sweet. Roy licks his way into the teens mouth and moves his right hand to Ed’s ass. He kneads and squeezes, happy to find that when he dips his fingers back, Edward has already worked himself open a fair bit.

Ed’s jaw drops with his gasp when Roy pushes two fingers in him at once. Roy chews Ed’s lower lip and fingers him slow, working the excess lube into him. His eyes crack open and look over to see the bottle left on the end table. The image of Edward fingering himself open on the couch, getting himself all ready for him, makes Roy groan. Ed is giving little gasps every time Roy gets the angle just right, but he’s purposely avoiding it, teasing him. Another thing he’s learned is that Edward loves to be teased, to be worked to the edge and drawn back, over and over again.

He’s almost ready now. Roy bites Ed’s lower lip, harder than he would any of his previous bed partners, but he knows well enough by now that it only meets the low end of his pain tolerance. He eases up when he tastes blood, and it always catches him off guard how much that turns him on. The hands on his stomach don’t dare to move without instruction, the boy has learned well, and they tremble ever so slightly against him.

Roy’s free hand palms over his own crotch, unsurprised at how hard he is already. Those filthy noises from Edward are enough to do it, but paired with a collar and tag of ownership—Roy wants to parade him around like this. Everywhere he goes, saying; _Look, look at what he’ll do for me, anything for me,_ **_anything_**.

Roy’s cock is heavy in his hand, and he pulls his fingers away but replaces them quickly. The tightness is still so overwhelming, so hot and wet and welcoming. Edward’s head tips back, jaw dropped with a moan to the ceiling, “Ooh, fuck, colonel…”

His hips twitch, but Roy hadn’t told him what to do yet, and Ed is still in waiting. His hair is down and Roy can’t help but bury his hand in it, pulling Edward closer and bucking up into him. The boy shudders in his lap, moaning and mewling while Roy fucks him in shallow thrusts, his other hand pushing and pulling Ed’s hips to meet him.

Roy has to know, “Did you make this?” Roy breathes, hooking his finger on the collar.

Edward nods, his fingertips dig into Roy’s stomach, “B-Bought the collar, t-transmuted th’tag.”

Roy kisses him again, holding Ed down to seat him as deep as he can for a moment, “It looks beautiful on you,” Roy isn’t sure where the compliment came from, but it’s true. Ed whimpers, “You love being mine, don’t you, Edward?”

Ed clenches around him and leans forward, tucking his head in the crook of Roy’s neck, “Y-Yes, sir.”

Roy moves again, slower this time, a tease for both of them, “Tell me,” Roy groans and rolls them to the side without pulling out an inch. The surprise makes Ed gasp, laying on his back on the couch now, “Tell me why.”

Edward moans, legs wrapped around Roy’s waist and pulling him in, “Fuck, colonel…” He moans, arching off the couch ever so slightly, “C-C-Cause you m-make me feel so good, so fucking good, _fuck_! N-No one touches me like you do, no one hurts me like you—o-oh fuck, yes, please, faster!”

Roy licks up his neck and bites his way back down, “Keep talking, Fullmetal.” He orders, leaning back to move his hips faster, harder, just the way Ed likes.

Ed’s hands grip the cushion beneath him, and he writhes, “Need you… I-I-aahh, fuck, fuck, I need you so bad, need to be yours, oh, ooohh,” He reaches up for him blindly, but Roy’s too far away, so he grabs one of Ed’s hands and pins it over his head. Somehow their fingers end up interlaced, “Fuck, I love bein’ yours, colonel, don’t wanna be no one else’s, ever, ever, oohhh, god, yes, yes, colonel, p-please, give it to me, anything, everything, please, colonel, ple-”

Roy kisses him because he can’t quite handle hearing that, and also because he couldn’t stand watching those delicious lips move and not tasting them. He fucks Edward relentlessly, grinding into him in utter desperation. It all feels so good; the cold automail gripping his hips, the lips over his own, so pliant and needy, and the tight heat around him, sucking him in and begging for more. It’s rather soon for him to be coming, but he’s too worked up to stop himself.

Edward comes first, babbling into his mouth and sobbing every moan. He gets so intoxicated from it all that sometimes Roy could swear he’s drunk, but he’s not, it’s just _him_. Losing himself so wholly in the pleasure that every bit of coherence slips his mind. Roy finds himself drifting closer to that state of mind every time he touches the boy, as if his skin and sweat are a drug itself. He comes inside of him because Edward always begs for that, and there are soft whines muffled against his lips when he does. Roy’s own groan is low and breathless, with Ed’s name falling from his lips between every sound he makes.

In the moments after, as usual, they just kiss. Kiss and kiss until their lips are swollen and abused. Until neither can get a deep enough breath and the lightheadedness takes over. Until all that’s left is _them_. Together. One mass in a heap of bliss on Roy’s couch.

Edward is boneless beneath him, flushed and panting. The blindfold came untied at some point in the last few minutes, and it’s fallen down over the bridge of his nose, but his eyes don’t open.

Looking down at him, Roy is overcome with the urge to press his lips over every inch he can reach, and since it’s only his pride stopping him, he does just that. Kisses are peppered down Ed’s neck and over his chest, to the dip of his ribs and the edge where skin meets metal. He licks at the come over his stomach, and loses himself between Ed’s legs. The best stress relief he’s found.

Edward sighs and pushes the blindfold from his face. Roy looks up at him as he kisses his way all the way back up, and those gold eyes are heavy lidded and dilated, and it pulls at Roy’s chest in a way that he doesn’t really want to think about.

Ed glances to the side, his mismatched hands running up Roy’s chest as he settles over him again, “Did somethin’—happen today?” He asked, voice rough and looking more than a little uncertain.

Roy blinks, thrown for a loop at the strange question, “Nothing in particular, why do you ask?” He takes in all of Ed’s expression, pushing sweat damp bangs from his face. Gold eyes narrow and search Roy’s own face for a moment, his eyebrows drawn together, his reddened lips somewhere near a pout.

Ed avoids eye contact, “You’re bein’ all… I don’t know…”

Roy stills, thinking over everything that’s happened since he walked into the house, but nothing sticks out, “What?”

Edward’s curved lips frown slightly, “Soft…” He whispered, eyes fixed on Roy’s chest, not daring to look any higher, “Didn’t even pull my hair or nothin’…”

 _Soft_.

Right.

Roy had kissed him more just then than he had in any of their encounters over the course of their—arrangement. He hadn’t hit him or pinned him or ordered him around more than simple directions. He’s not entirely sure why, even, and he doesn’t really want to dissect it right now. Not when he’s bathing in afterglow and Edward is so warm in his arms.

“Did you like it?” He asks, voice even with no inflection to hint at his inner dilemma.

Ed still doesn’t look at him, but his expression is more embarrassed than anything else now, “I-I guess, yeah…” He’s blushing, dark eyelashes fluttering when he finally glances up at him, and Roy’s heart does the strangest thing. Which he ignores absolutely.

“Then I don’t see the problem,” He said, and leaned back and away, doing up his pants while Ed sits up on his elbows and studies him, though what he’s looking for, Roy doesn’t quite know, but feels the need to deflect, “I was under the impression I could do whatever I wanted with you.”

Somewhere it had changed from _to you_ to _with you_. Roy knew there was a stark difference.

“R-Right.” Edward looks away again, and they’re back to square one.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay okay we're getting somewhere guys. I don't know where exactly yet lol these guys really just write themselves at this point.
> 
> again, thanks for commenting like really really really a lot! I know every author says it, but that's bcus it's true damnit, comments are writer fuel !!! and I like seeing what you guys want to happen too, bcus you have some great ideas.  
> this story is flowing super easy for me, surprisingly, and I thank you guys for that.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (O - O)
> 
> hi............. it's me, back again, with filthy, filthy smut as usual. didn't think it'd take quite this long, sorry  
> honestly thought i'd get some more automail kink in here bcus we all need more of that, but i guess  
> that's for the next one sorry i'm disappointed too.
> 
> enjoy bud~~~

 

Edward is knelt beneath Roy’s desk, staring up with his mouth stuffed full of cock, dripping spit and precum. His jaw aches, his throat fucked raw, but it's a pain he's more than familiar with now. Roy is so warm in his mouth, so hard and full, and the bitter salt of his precum is a pleasant accent. Ignition cloth cradles Ed’s full cheeks, the gloved hands pushing him up and pulling him back down with shallow movements. They’d been at this for a while now, but Ed’s mission had dragged on longer than either of them expected, and he had come back suffering some serious cock withdrawals. He’d suck Roy off all night to make up for lost time, but by the looks of Roy’s heavy lidded eyes and parted lips, he won’t last much longer.

And there’s something about that. Roy is acting—different. Something in his eyes is too _soft._  Last time he’d had this look, too; like he was memorising everything he was seeing, like he couldn’t get enough of the sight before him, and that sight being _Ed_. He’s never seen anyone look at him like that, never expected it from Roy, of all people. Their rendezvous have become increasingly different from the first, a different tone all around, and Ed blamed himself. He should’ve left that night, when he’d come across Roy during that thunderstorm. It wasn’t his place for that, and now here they are, an unacknowledged gentleness growing between them, that neither of them signed up for.

That wasn’t to say he didn’t like it.

“That’s it,” Roy sighs, moving Ed’s head faster, pushing him down to take it deeper, “Just like that, good boy. You take me so well, you’re doing so good,”

Ed burns, the tone around those words sinking straight to his crotch. Roy knows just what to say to get him going, and it’s humiliating in a pathetic sort of way that nothing else could get him hard as fast as those compliments. Praise is powerful, he didn’t even realise how bad he needed it until Roy.

Dark eyes stare at him intently, heavy lidded and hazy, “Almost, Fullmetal, almost,” Roy moans, one hand moving to pet through Ed’s loose hair, and Ed moans around him, “Yes, yes, like that, just like that, beautiful,”

_Beautiful._

Ed whimpers and shuts his watery eyes, sucking and moving with every push and pull. He'd do anything to hear that again, and he hopes his mouth feels good enough to earn more. Roy’s hips twitch up into it, and Edward’s right hand pushes into his own pants to relieve some of his throbbing.

“Swallow it all, okay? Take it all, Fullmetal, come on, take it-” Roy moans and forces Edward's head down with a fistful of blond, the first rough touch since he started, and it sends his heart racing. Hot come floods Ed’s mouth and pouring down his throat. It’s impossible to swallow around him like this, but Ed tries, his throat squeezing around him, sucking all that he can get from him with a contented hum.

When Roy pushes his head away, Ed swallows everything he can, though a bit always drips from his lips, and he wipes it from his chin and licks his hand clean. He’s lightheaded now, panting up at Roy, who pulls him up and into his lap to kiss him. The kissing is rather new, too. Usually they kept it until the end, but more and more often their lips find each other and Ed doesn't think too hard on it. Roy’s hand undoes Ed’s pants while his tongue dips into the teen’s mouth. Edward moans and ruts his hips up into the gloved hand squeezing him, leaning into Roy with his arms around his neck. It’s times like this he can almost pretend this is more than sex, more than the power high and dizzying loss of control. He wishes he could say he was emotionally detached, but that would've been a lie from the start.

The ignition cloth is rough over his sensitive skin, and Roy squeezes and pulls and twists his hand, knowing just what to do. Ed is already so close, his eyes roll back, his head tipped to the ceiling now. He hadn’t even tried to masturbate during the mission, he never had the time anyway, but he knows it wouldn’t have been even half as good as this. Roy’s lips press over his jugular, his teeth graze, and Ed’s heart stutters in his chest, his moans upping in pitch ever so slightly as he gets closer and closer to that edge-

But Roy stops then, wrapping both his arms around Ed and ignoring his whine, “M-Mustang-”

“I don’t want you to come yet,” Roy interrupts, his breath hot over a hickey on Ed’s shoulder, “Can you hold on a while longer for me?”

_For me?_

That’s a new one, a new tone entirely, and even though his cock throbs with need, he nods, not quite consciously aware that he could never say no to that anyway, “Yes, sir.”

Roy hums and leans back in his chair, pushing Ed’s jacket off his shoulders completely now, and moving his tank top up and out of the way as much as he can. His eyes roll over Ed's smaller frame sitting still in his lap, no doubt taking in all the hickeys and bite marks he's left already, “Do you promise to be a good boy, Edward?”

In any other context the words would feel belittling, there's even an edge of teasing to Roy's voice, but god does Ed want to be a good boy for him, he always does. Hearing it from Roy’s lips makes a hot flush rises on his skin and sink low in his stomach, his cock twitches and leaks onto his pants, “Y-Yes, sir.”

Roy smirks and hums again, letting his hands roam over Edward’s body, up his thighs and stomach, down his arms and around to his back. It feels like he’s petting him. Ed’s sure he’s almost never touched him so softly, “Go up on your knees a bit,”

Ed sits up as directed, no longer sitting on Roy’s lap, but still straddling over him. Roy pulls his pants down as far as he can manage with Ed’s legs spread like this, but it’s enough to reveal his ass, unmarked for the first time in a while. Roy’s hands knead and squeeze, spreading him and massaging. Ed chews his lip and shifts around, making Roy look up at him.

“I don’t want you to come until I say you may, understand?” His voice is dipping back to that commanding low tone, and it sends a shiver down Ed’s spine.

“Yes, sir.”

Roy leans down a bit and sucks the head of Ed’s cock into his mouth. Edward chokes, clutching at the back of his seat with a strangled moan. His dick throbs, and his hips twitch into the tight wet heat of Roy’s mouth, feeling the man roll his tongue and suck him more. Edward pants out each breath, grasping at every ounce of control he has to keep him from coming in Roy’s mouth. Just thinking about it makes Edward ache, and he bites his lip hard, though that only makes it worse.

Roy pulls away before he gets a chance, his lips shining and dripping. He reaches forward to his desk drawer and retrieves a small bottle from the second drawer, and Edward whines, “Shh,” Roy hushes, removing one glove to coat a finger in lube, “Not yet.”

His finger rubs over Ed’s entrance, “I won’t be able to,” Ed gasps, tensing up when Roy’s finger pushes inside him, “Mustang, wait!”

His finger stills, sunken to the knuckle in Ed’s tight ass, “You can, Edward,” Roy says, and his other hand on Ed’s hips guides him back down to his lap, twisting his finger inside of him, “I need you to do this for me. Be a good boy, okay?”

“C-Colonel, please.” Ed whispers, ducking his head to hide his blush in Roy’s neck, both hands fisting the front of his jacket.

“You said, Edward,” Roy chides, thrusting his finger in shallow movements, “You said you’d listen. You should’ve told me you couldn’t handle it.”

Another finger joins the first, and Edward’s cock leaks a hot stream of precum down his length, “I can, I can handle it.”

"Good boy," Roy sighs, and Ed swallows a whimper.

Roy’s fingers stretch him, scissoring, avoiding his prostate, but the feeling of being filled and the knowledge of what’s to come is enough to push him closer. Edward moves a hand to grip the base of his cock, but Roy stops him.

“No, you don’t need that.”

His fingers sink deep and stop, and Ed keens, “But I-”

“You said you could handle it, Edward.” Roy's voice is getting closer to annoyed, and Ed wants the sweet tone again, more than he ever thought he would.

A small line of tears rise in his eyes, and his tense muscles are beginning to burn. Roy’s fingers don’t move, his other hand spreads Ed’s ass a bit more, and his teeth pull at Ed’s earlobe, “O-Okay,” Ed mumbles, trying to have cold shower thoughts, but it’s impossible with Roy’s fingers up his ass. He’s pulling them closer, too, pinning Edward's aching cock between them with delightful friction. Edward moans and shuts his eyes, stinging tears catching in his lashes, “Ahahh, colonel,”

Roy begins to move his hand again and Ed’s lungs stutter, his stomach tensing, hips pushing back into each move. He just wants to come already. It’s been too long, he’s far too pent up for something like this. There are days where Roy’s teased him endlessly, but they usually followed after days where he had came over and over again. This release has been building in him for so long, the denial is painful.

He tries to focus on his breathing, tries to enjoy the fullness for what it is, but everything is too much right now. His skin is buzzing at every point of contact, the tension in his stomach bow-tight and dangerous. He moans, shaking and straining now. His cock is flushed and hot, twitching in need and begging for attention, but Roy just continues his fingering.

Sometimes his fingers will move in circles deep inside of him, sometimes they twist on every push and pull, sometimes he slows before moving faster and faster until Ed whines and tenses up, and he stops and kisses over his exposed collar bones, shushing him and pushing his bangs from his face. It’s a merciless tease, and Ed’s caught in an agonised sort of bliss, wanting to do what Roy asked of him, waiting for Roy to relent and tell him he can come, but minutes pass, and nothing changes. Roy seems perfectly content to finger him and kiss him, and Ed is dying.

“C-C-Colonel, _please_ ,” Ed’s abs tighten, his thighs squeeze at Roy’s hips, and he can see come leak from him, a warning that he’s at his limit, “Please, can I come? Please, sir, please can I-”

Roy kisses him, mostly to silence him, Ed knows, and Roy angles his fingers just right to make him sob his next moan, stars erupting against Ed’s eyelids.

“Not yet, beautiful,”

Gold eyes burn with tears. The word alone is enough to make him moan, but the inflection it's said with makes him break his word, and he’s coming all over them with rough, trembling moans wracking through him. His face presses to Roy’s shoulder, trying to smother the noises he makes, but it’s impossible. He’s intoxicated, far too gone to feel anything other than warm pleasure floating all around him.

When his cock is finished leaking and twitching, and the wave of pleasure has crashed and broken and ran right through him, he can hear Roy sigh heavily, “Edward…” He sounds exasperated, and Ed leans back to look at him, tear stained cheeks red and flushed.

Roy gives him a flat look, and Ed’s stomach turns, “I-I didn’t mean to,” They’ve been here before, and it had been a night of absolute desperation for him then, he can’t imagine what’s to come now, “I’m sorry, I-”

“No,” Roy states, voice low and hard, far from the soft hushed tones he had been whispering in earlier, and Ed swallows thickly, wiping at his face, “You didn’t listen to me, Edward. I said not yet.”

“B-But, I-I-I-”

“You said you’d be good for me,” Roy’s gloved hand finds his hair and _pulls,_  “Why did you come without permission, Edward?”

His head is yanked back, baring his throat, and the pain makes Ed moan, “ _Colonel._ ”

“I asked you a _question._ ” Roy bends him back further, making him arch his back.

“I-I c-couldn’t—colonel, _please-_ ” Ed says to the ceiling, voice rough and wavering.

“But you told me you _could._  I wanted you to wait, and you said that you could,” Roy pushes him off his lap, making him stand with his hand in his hair, and Ed’s eyes go wide at the anger in his expression now, “That was _very bad,_  Edward.”

Guilt hits him with a nauseating force, as if his disobedience had shaken the world around him.

Ed’s hands come to Roy’s wrist, as if he could do anything to stop Roy from pulling his hair now, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Edward’s almost surprised at the tears that shine in his eyes now. Roy has made him cry in all sorts of ways, but this was new, “I’m sorry, colonel, I-I-I tried-”

“You lied to me,” Roy says, voice flat, and he pushes Ed back to his desk, lifting him by his hair until Ed’s sitting on the empty surface, “You were doing so good, Edward, so good, and then..."

“I’m sorry,” The tears blur his eyes, and Ed’s jaw shakes, overcome with emotion and while that in itself isn't new, this particular guilt has never hit him so hard, “I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” He sniffles and shuts his eyes, face crumpling, “I-I’ll be good, colonel, I’ll be good, I promise, please, please-”

“Lay back,” Roy orders, and Ed is flat on his back, sniffling and gasping, tears flowing down his cheeks faster than he can blink them away. Edward covers his face with his arms, confused at the sharp turn in his emotions. Roy pulled off his boots and his pants, tossing them aside while Ed tried to rein himself in. His sniffling never stops, hiccuping sobs and soaking his jacket with tears, “Look at me, Fullmetal,” There is a coldness in his voice that is such a sharp contrast to all the sweet things he had said before, and it makes Ed sob a little harder into his jacket again, his head spinning, “ _Fullmetal._ ”

Roy pulls his arms from his face, and Ed blinks up at him with his lips shaking, “I-I-I-I’m s-s-sorry, I’m sorry, m’sorry, _m’sorry._ ” He’s nearly hyperventilating, and Roy pins his hands above his head, staring down at him with an impassive expression.

“I want you to be still, Edward,” He says, and when he releases Ed’s hands, Ed doesn’t dare to move them, “Stay still and quiet, okay?” Ed nods when Roy wipes tears from his cheeks, keeping his hands there to cradle Ed’s jaw and force him to look up at him, “And do _not come until I say._ ”

Ed sniffles and nods, “I-I won’t, I won’t, I promise.”

Roy nods a little, wiping at his cheeks again, “Good, good,” Ed burns, sweat shining in every dip of his skin. He looks down to see Roy’s hard again, slicking up his length and lining himself up, “Be a good boy this time, Edward,”

Ed groans when Roy pushes in. It’s almost too tight, and the lube is just short of enough, a painful friction making him burn from the inside out. He’s twitching already, getting hard again. His legs fold under Roy’s hands, bending him in half and baring him completely.

The pace Roy sets is incredibly slow, long languid thrusts that fill Ed to the brim and then leave him with just an inch. Roy stares down at where they’re connected, not affected in the slightest. He watches his cock draw in and out of Ed’s tight hole with a distant interest, humming and holding Ed’s hips still. Whereas Edward is barely containing himself. He’s boneless, whimpering and moaning at each drag of Roy’s cock over his prostate, filling him with a pleasure that he can feel up to his ears. It’s a tease, nothing like he knows Roy can make him feel. Only enough to make him desperate for more.

Ed shuts his eyes and stays stock still like he was told, his arms laid back, palm up and bent at the elbow, framing his messy hair that had long since fallen from it’s tie. His head is clouded with a hundred different things, and he has no brain power to question the cocktail of emotions there. There is a desperation in him, urging him to follow the orders, to be a good boy, to hear all those wonderful things Roy was saying again. Another part of him can’t help but to sink into the pleasure, moaning on the edge of too loud, wiggling his hips to get the right angle that Roy is avoiding, even if it draws him too close to orgasm again. Every thought in his head is too far away to hold onto for longer than a moment, the pound of his heart is thrumming in his ears and pulsing in his blushed cheeks.

Roy gives a soft sigh and moves a bit faster, reducing Ed to mewls and trembling limbs with a slight change of angle. Fingertips dig into Ed’s hips with a bruising grip, and Roy pulls him into his thrusts now, pounding into him with a steady slap of skin, “You’re doing better this time, Edward, much better,” Roy pants, and Ed opens his hazy eyes, “Are you going to be a good boy now, Edward?” Ed moans and nods, “A good boy for me?” Ed nods, jaw dropped in a silent gasp, “Say it, beautiful.” 

Ed's whole body rocks from the force of Roy’s hips, and he swallows, “M'good.”

“Again.”

“Nnn—haa, Mustang-”

“ _Again._ " Roy’s hand comes to his throat, and Ed’s voice cracks on a moan.

“I’m uh-ahahh, good boy.” He moans, hands in fists.

Roy finds the right angle and Edward's jaw drops, “Again.”

“M'a good boy,” He sobs, eyes filling with tears again, “I’m a good boy, I’m a good boy," He sniffles and moans, shutting his eyes, " _I’m a good boy!_ ”

“Yes, Edward,” Roy moans, leaning over him, “My good boy, so good for me.”

Roy’s hand on his throat tightens ever so slightly, and Edward’s head spins, brought so close to orgasm again, “Colonel, colonel, I-I need to, need to come, colonel, please-”

“ _Not yet_ ,” Roy growls, leaning back and stopping his thrusts with his cock buried deep in Ed’s ass, “Not yet, Edward, don’t you dare.”

Tears run down his face as he shakes his head, “I won’t, I won’t.”

Roy moves again, slower now, “Don’t be bad, wait for me.” He's breathless, and Ed can see the pleasure in his expression.

Ed nods and shuts his eyes, feeling his dick leaking all over himself, “Won't be bad,” He mumbled, eyelashes heavy with tears, “M'not bad, I-I-I'm a g-good b-boy."

"You are," Roy's free hand runs up his torso, leaving a hot trail over his skin, "I know you are, Edward, keep it up, beautiful."

Ed moans, "Faster.”

Roy draws back slow, and pushes in deep, “You won’t come? You’ll be good?”

Ed nods, fast and fervent, “I’ll be good, please, I need it faster.”

Roy’s hand tightens again, and his hips snap into harder thrusts, fucking into him relentlessly. Edward is close, but he can tell Roy is too, and if he goes faster, fucks him like he knows they both want, then he’ll get to come too. Roy moans and grips and Ed gasps for breath, arching beneath him to get the angle right. It’s struck with precision now, and Edward holds himself at bay with every last semblance of will power he was able to dredge up. He was choking on every moan, gasping every breath with drool down his chin. His legs wrap around Roy and tighten, urging him deeper, faster, _more._

“Ah, colonel!”

Roy kisses him, biting and licking his lips, his hips stuttering in their rhythm, “Go on, come, beautiful, you were so good, such a good boy for me.” He sighs, and Edward keens, rolling his head back.

“Yes, yes, yes, I’m a good boy,” Edward’s trembling arms come to wrap around him, gripping the back of Roy’s jacket, his ankles locking, “M’a good boy, I am, _I am,_ colonel!”

He comes again, this time with far more relief than the first, and his limbs have turned to jelly, his blood burning under his skin. All the chemicals flooding his brain have him outright intoxicated, dizzy and drunk on it, like no amount of whiskey has ever been able to make him feel. Roy moans loud, sinking his teeth into Ed’s shoulder as he buries his cock inside him and comes. His hand falls from Ed's neck, moving to wrap his arms around him with the last of his shallow thrusts that fill Ed with his come. It's only a few more moments and he pulls out and picks Ed up, moves back so they're sitting in the chair again. Their pants are done up with unsteady hands, and when Roy's arms return around him, Edward melts into his chest. His eyes feel puffy and itchy, tear raw, and he still can't quite stop crying. Their breaths sound loud in the silence now, and Roy's arms around him squeeze him close. A kiss to his temple, and another to the top of his head and Ed's lungs hitch on his next breath, another wave of tears burning on their way down his cheeks.

"Shh, you did so well, Edward," Roy whispers, and Ed shuts his eyes, nuzzling into his neck, "You're so pretty when you cry..."

Edward leans back just enough to kiss him, and his jaw shakes when their lips move together. Roy's soft again now, pushing his sweat damp bangs from his forehead with the lightest touch, and Ed would purr if he could. All the adrenaline bleeds out slow, and as his thoughts start to return to normal, no longer clouded under all the lust and desperation, he can feel embarrassment well up. He had never really cried like that before, not without being overwhelmed with pleasure or pain or need. Those tears feel nice, cleansing in a way. This time he had cried because he did something wrong, and that hadn't ever happened before.

When they pulled back, Ed left his eyes closed, his lips parted and kiss bruised. Roy threads both hands in Ed's hair, massaging over his scalp with a hum, "Are you all right?" Roy asks, and Ed's eyes open. That's a first too, and so is the genuine concern narrowing Roy's eyes, "That was rather... intense."

Ed hesitates to nod, but he does, looking away, "M'okay."

Roy pulls him closer and kisses his forehead, and Ed's chest seizes, making him scrunch up his eyes, "Are you sure?" Roy presses, and Ed swallows, his throat dry.

"I..."

His first thought is to ask ' _did I really do good?'_ and it sends another curl of embarrassment through him, because he shouldn't care. He should want to make Roy come because then  _he_ gets to come, not for any other reason. He shouldn't want to be so submissive and obedient, because his favourite part is the punishments. When did that change? When did he start wanting the softness more than the pain? It shouldn't be like this. He shouldn't feel so tied to this, shouldn't hinge anything on whether or not Roy thought he did a good enough job following his perverted orders. But he does, and it's pathetic that he wants to make him feel good, that he  _wants_ to be a good boy for him. It's degrading, but it was never meant to be anything but. In the start, he had gotten Roy angry to get the best fuck out of him, and now, he'd follow every order with not a word of argument or a second of hesitation, just to hear Roy call him a good boy again.

"I'm fine." He says, and Roy pulls out a handkerchief to wipe them both clean. It doesn't do much, but it helps appearances at least. Roy's jacket is absolutely soiled, there's no way he can walk out of here like that, but he has his black overcoat to hide the mess.

Roy takes a deep breath and hums again, "You like it, don't you." It's a vague statement, not a question, and Ed frowns.

"Like what?"

"When I make you cry." Roy's voice is very gentle, edging on reverent, and his hand comes up to Ed's face, his thumb running across his cheek, and it flushes beneath the touch.

"That's-That's not really—no, that's-" Ed looks away, because he's lying and it's humiliating. Everything about everything they do is humiliating in one way or another, and he's largely gotten over it, but they don't really talk about anything they do, they just  _do it_ _._ They fuck without asking because there couldn't be any boundaries after the first time, or the second or third or  _tenth._  

"You always cry," Roy says, and his expression is as unreadable as ever when Ed glances over, "I don't think I've ever fucked you without tears in your eyes."

Edward tries to think, but he instantly knows Roy's right, and he flushes to the tips of his ears, "You usually hurt me so I don't see how that could be surprising."

"I don't think your tears have ever been from pain alone, Edward," That makes him pause, and Ed turns his head and grits his teeth, staying silent, "I didn't expect you to react quite like that this time. You're sure it wasn't too much?"

Ed gives him a sidelong glance, "What's it matter?"

"Answer me." Roy demands, voice hard.

Edward ducks his head and shakes his head, "Didn't hear me complainin' did you?"

"I never do, but that means very little in our situation," Roy sighs, and Ed shifts on his lap, wanting to press closer again, "You never answered me before, either. Do you like it when I make you cry?"

Ed doesn't look up at him, "I guess."

"What does that mean?"

Edward grinds his teeth again, anger spiking in him, "What does it matter?"

"Believe it or not, Edward, I do not want to rape you." Roy grits out, expression serious, but the statement makes Ed balk.

"Bullshit," Ed snaps, gripping the front of Roy's jacket with a glare, "You sure as fuck wanted to the first time!"

"I was intoxicated and angry," Roy defends, but Ed can tell he knows that doesn't mean jack shit, "It was a fantasy I wasn't in the right mind to control, and one I fully expected to be beaten out of. In fact," Roy turns his head, and Ed can see his jaw tense, "In hindsight, that was probably the only goal of my actions anyway."

Edward narrows his eyes, "What do you mean?"

"Edward," Roy sighs and puts a hand on his face, "You are fully capable of beating the shit out of me, and I deserve it," Ed's eyes go a little wide, even though he'd known that fact before, it's strange to hear from someone who seems so arrogant and cocky, "If you had reacted like I was hoping, I maybe would've stopped having such obscene,  _depraved_ thoughts about you, and yet, instead..."

Ed swallows and looks down at the space between them, "We've already had this conversation, Mustang," Ed says, his grip on Roy's jacket loosening, "I said I wanted this then, nothing's changed."

"That's not true, and you know it," Roy says softly, and when Ed looks up at him, his expression has softened, "I need to know, Edward. You cried—more this time, and for a different reason. Was something wrong?" Edward hides behind his bangs and shakes his head, "Do you like it when I make you cry?"

Ed's face burns, and he nods, "Yeah." He whispers, fiddling with a gold button on Roy's jacket.

He can hear Roy swallow and take a deep breath, "Okay," He says, his arms coming back around Ed's torso, linking behind him to hold him a bit closer, "Okay."

Ed looks up, and Roy tilts his head forward to kiss his forehead again, "Do you..." Ed cleared his throat and looked away, "Do you really think I-I'm—pretty, w-when I cry?"

Roy's eyes went a little wide, and he blinked a few times, clearly surprised at the question, but then he was smirking with all his smarminess back again, "You're beautiful when you cry, Edward," He says, brushing Ed's bangs behind his ear, and Edward blushes, "Especially when you're begging for me, or promising that you'll be a good boy for me, or you're just so full with my cock that you can't help it..."

Edward's blush darkens and he glares, "It takes more than that to make me cry."

Roy  _smiles,_ humming, "Does it, though?" Ed turns to glare at the wall now, and Roy laughs, "You're more than I can handle, Edward..."

Ed glares at him again, "What's that supposed to mean?" He grumbles, and Roy kisses him, making Ed's eyes go wide.

"I don't know." Roy says when he pulls back, and Edward kisses him because he can't find anything else to say.

 _Nothing's changed,_  Edward tries to think, but the chaste kiss on his lips screams _liar._

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pepe reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee   
> i actually liked this one a lot, which is weird bcus i had a feeling this story went   
> downhill around like chapter three lmao
> 
> ok see you guys next time, also probably gonna reply to some of the older comments bcus i haven't gotten  
> around to it and you guys are great. i don't deserve any of you srsly


End file.
